


Heart of Ice

by Amali



Series: Lord of the Rinks [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Female Bilbo, Gen, Ice Hockey AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:25:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amali/pseuds/Amali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Blue Mountain Axes, long exiled from Erebor, once the best team in the Rhohavion Hockey League, have suffered a long reversal of fortune ever since Smaug, ruthless business rival, took their rink and league contract for himself. Coach Gandalf Greyhame knows what Thorin Thráinson and the rest of the team need: a goaltender of exceptional skill, a winning season, and a lot of luck. He’s found them the Burglar, but the new goaltender has a few surprises of their own. It’s going to be a long year, but the promise of success just might keep the Axes together through the season ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Old Sorrows and New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tygermama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tygermama/gifts).



> This was inspired by [Tygermama](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tygermama/pseuds/Tygermama) and her late night prompts during the last NHL playoffs.

“And turning to local sports, the Blue Mountain Axes once again missed the playoffs. Coach Gandalf Greyhame said his team will be focusing on rebuilding during the off season, and look forward to starting next year with a new outlook. Once again, the Axes have failed in their long time bid to rejoin the Rhovanion…” Growling, Thorin grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the television off, silencing the local sportscaster before standing and deciding the churning in his stomach might give him a chance to break his PR. In moments, he was outside, lacing his sneakers and sweeping his hair into a rough ponytail, before taking off at a brisk walk, feeling his muscles warm up before he reached the trailhead and left all the problems and hurt behind him as his feet hit the dirt.

The forests around his neighborhood were quiet, the damp of morning still coating the young shoots of grass around his favorite running trail. Thorin pumped his arms and ignored the burning in his calves, listening to his breathing and the rhythm of his feet on the soft ground until he could forget about the last year, the pain of watching teammates leave after losing faith in him, hearing the final buzzer on another losing season after they had all worked so hard. Putting his head down as he faced the final hill, Thorin sprinted, trying to leave the anger behind and arriving at the top to find he had shaved three minutes off his best time and the knot in his chest had gone away, letting him enjoy the view of the Blue Mountains that cradled the town that shared their name, the pine forests stretching out on either side of him as the sun crested the eastern ridge.

Jogging back to his house, Thorin stretched and ate a banana, leaving the television off as he tried to remember why he needed to go the rink today. There shouldn’t be anyone he didn’t want see beyond Radagast tending to his ice like it was a garden, with hose and bucket and making it faster than a speed skating circle. The old man was possibly insane, but Thorin didn’t argue with results. Still, he didn’t want to rehash the season quite yet. Radagast, as color commentator for all home games, might have once been a great coach and player, but he had a way of making Thorin feel he was still a peewee whenever they talked, even though Thorin was nominally the boss as part owner of the Axes.

Finally remembering he had to do some inventory, order new equipment that they couldn’t really afford, and get home while avoiding certain members of his family, Thorin decided to forgo a post run shower. He couldn’t talk to them right now, afraid he might say something he shouldn’t. April had once been his favorite month. Now, spring only seemed to bring him more sorrow.

Their season was over, again, long before the final game, and though they had managed to avoid being kicked from the league to the next tier down, few believed the Axes would stick around much longer. And even fewer that he had what it took to play at the highest level. He could hear it in every reporter’s voice, every player he spoke to, the raised eyebrows from the other owners who had once bent their head to the Thráinson family as one of hockey’s finest. All because of one man and his machinations. If Thorin ever doubted his work, all he needed to do was think of Smaug and the loss of Erebor, team and rink inseparable. He remembered the day the business mogul had somehow convinced the board to vote Thrór out of power, the fear and impotent rage still raw as security guards had forced him and his family out of the building and laughed. Thrór was dead, and Thráin with him, but the team they had started here had a chance to rejoin the league they had once dominated.

With his head lost in the past, Thorin decided to walk to the structure called the Fortress, cutting through neighborhoods and crossing the river that was swollen with snow melt from the mountains. The peaks still glittered with snow, but the lower slopes were green. Erebor had stood at the base of one peak, and Thorin knew it would look the same at this time of year, and wondered how the city of Dale looked in the early spring. He had heard rumors of how it had changed, but it was too dangerous for him to return, and he didn’t have the heart to seek out images on a cold computer screen. A cold wind rose and he wished he had grabbed his hoodie as he approached the gray brick barn, with the crenulated rainspouts that had lent the building its pretentious nickname. Besides that small architectural flair, the building was a prime example of municipal blandness, but an ice rink was an ice rink, and walking towards the large glass doors felt right.  

With the parking lot empty and the building dark this early in the day, Thorin didn’t even find Radagast puttering around in the hallways. He avoided looking at the ice sheet, able to hear the last goal hitting the back of the net. Dain had said nothing in the locker room, and everyone had known with his contract up, he wouldn’t stay. Four of their defensemen and their third line had also left, but as much as Thorin resented their betrayal, he understood the young players didn’t deserve to watch their careers circle the drain until they were too old to try and make it to the Show. He sometimes wished he could send Fíli and Kíli to one of the more promising teams, but the family played for the Axes, and even if he dared make the offer, they would refuse. “Too many stories.” Shaking his head, he did his work as fast as he was able and left, before the summer camps could arrive to break the silence and take the rink away from him.

 

Adjusting his shoulders as he walked into the pub, hoping to get the quiet pint he had promised himself months ago, Thorin saw his coach in one of the corner booths, a half finished tumbler of whiskey in front of him as he paged through a three ring binder. Recognizing the development of a new playbook, Thorin hesitated but the old man glanced up and waved. Trapped, Thorin got some water, placed an order with the bartender and sat down, waving away the offer of bar snacks. “You should know better, Coach. I’m having a chicken salad.”

“Perhaps I should. A difficult season, however, leaves one with some leeway.”

“It leaves me with less.” Thorin looked at the lists and diagrams Gandalf was making, and raised an eyebrow. “And you with some strange ideas.”

“When my roster has been reduced, I grow creative. Especially when I’m not sure who my goaltender is going to be.” Thorin saw the gleam in Gandalf’s eye and leaned back as his salad arrived.

“But you have an idea of who you’d like.”

“We need to have a discussion.” The old man had the audacity to twinkle his eyes and Thorin leaned forward, hunching his shoulders.

“Gandalf, I know what we need. Dain left us for the Miners, and who can blame him after this season? We need another Durin, and last I checked he retired a long time ago.”

“Another Durin is beyond my power, but I do have someone in mind. Someone who can steal games. In fact, they’re known as the Burglar for that very thing.”

“And he’d be willing to play here?” Unsaid were the myriad reasons why the Axes had a hard time hanging onto new players; their recent record was only part of the problem. The town was remote, with little to offer young players, and the road trips were brutal. Add to that the long winters, the Blue Mountain team had earned a difficult reputation over the years.

“Oh, I think I can convince them. They’ve just graduated, and they don’t have a team. Signing them shouldn’t be a problem.”

“He’s a college player? How old is he?”

“Twenty one.”

“Young, for a goalie in this league.”

“Who cares? Talent is talent. Kíli is well on his way to being drafted, if you could talk him into declaring.” Letting out a long sigh, Thorin shook his head. That discussion had led to more than one argument with his sister and nephew, and he had thought Gandalf wise enough to not to cross Dís when she had made up her mind about her children.

“Fine. At this point we can’t be picky.”

“Cheer up, Thorin. You and the Axes will get back to Erebor one day.”

“If we do, Gandalf, it won’t be through just winning.”

“Getting back into the Rhovanion will unnerve Smaug enough that I think he’ll panic.”

“You and I are speaking of the same Smaug, are we not? He does not panic. He’s as cold blooded as any. I watched him, that day in the boardroom, and he was enjoying every moment he was destroying our lives.” Gandalf nodded and drew a slim folder out of the binder, setting it in front of Thorin and standing.

“Then this might shed some light on that moment. I’m going to go meet with our prospect soon, so if you could talk to Dís about drawing up a contract I’d be grateful. Keep up with the team, keep them lifting and running, and we’ll head into this season strong.”

“Gandalf, what is this?” But the old man was already leaving, and Thorin was left alone in the booth, stomach churning, as he read accounts of blackmail and bribery that led to the board of his own family’s company betraying the Thráinsons to Smaug. A story, combined with their lawful reentry to the league, that just might restore the Axes to Erebor and oust the Dragons once and for all. Reeling, Thorin felt his hands trembling and couldn’t move until he heard footsteps and glanced up at a familiar face.

“Are you all right?”

“Bombur.” Gasping, Thorin realized he had stabbed the knife into the table at some point and the rest of the bar was staring at him. “I’m sorry. Something Gandalf said.”

“Must have been bad news?” The fiery haired wing, solid as a brick wall and just as unflappable, sat and folded his arms across his beard.

“Among the worst. But some good mixed in. I’ll tell you all at the meeting tomorrow.” Nodding, Bombur glanced up as another joined them, and beamed.

“Hello, darling. Thorin’s fine.”

“Fine my arse, I heard that from back in the kitchen.” Wincing, Thorin yanked the knife out of the table and offered it to Leyda, who accepted it without a word of recrimination. “The badgers are clamoring to get into the freezer again, Bom, and I need you to see to tomorrow’s order. Thorin, beer’s on the house.” Unable to stop his smile at the mention of Bombur’s children, Thorin nodded and stood, gripping the folder that held the secret to his family’s redemption.

“I can take the hint, Leyda. I’ll see you later.” Bombur clapped Thorin’s shoulder before going back into the kitchen, and even as Thorin pushed out of the door, he heard the cries greeting Daddy, shaking his head. He had had enough difficulty with Kíli and Fíli; he couldn’t begin to imagine having three more underfoot. Out in the street, the sign for the Blue Spruce Pub creaking in the soft breeze, Thorin walked through the small downtown, returning greetings from many but not slowing his feet until he saw a familiar face. “Balin, I thought you were going to be on the golf course for the next month.”

“I already made too much money at the range and no one will play with me anymore. I’ll have to wait for the summer tourists to show.” Shaking his head, Thorin wondered how anyone could mistake Balin, graying and grizzled as he was, for anything other than a hockey player and think they would have a chance against him. “So, here I am, wondering what sort of season I need to get ready for.”

“A difficult one.”

“Then nothing different.” Despite their light tones, Thorin could see Balin was worried. “You know, if we tried to make this a rebuilding year, use our picks instead of trading for the big ticket players, we could wait.”

“Balin, I hate to say this to your face, but you have maybe three more years left if you don’t take a bad hit. You want to waste two of them in this league? You deserve to retire from the league you started in. You should have been able to retire with a few million in the bank, not a weekly stipend.”

“And if we don’t make it this year?”

“At least we tried instead of giving up.” Thorin couldn’t scream, out here in public where he could still see two blue and gold banners waving from the light poles, and a few people walking by gave him friendly nods, people he recognized from the lines outside the rink after home games and even a few from the road.

“Then you need to talk to us before we try for any new players.” Thorin winced and started walking, waiting until they were on a quiet side street to tell Balin the news.

“There aren’t going to be any new players. We’re going to use our picks to get some money to cover the rink and the team.”

“Thirteen players? Are you insane?”

“I needed the money to tempt a goalie too. Fourteen. We can do this with fourteen.”

“Fourteen.” Balin took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder, then shrugged. “I didn’t know it had gotten so bad.” Thorin lowered his voice, even though they were alone, and watched Balin’s face as he admitted the bad news.

“Ticket sales slumped so much we’ll have to make up the shortfall to keep the rink another year.” Flinching, Balin stopped walking and folded his arms across his chest, forcing Thorin to face him.

“When were you planning on telling us?” Balin’s cold tone told Thorin everything he needed to know, and he pleaded for understanding

“Tomorrow. Once I had a chance to try and think of what to say.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Balin walked away without another word, and Thorin went back to his small house to shower and wonder if he was even going to have thirteen players in a month. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He had been taught to manage a team with a budget in the millions, not the thousands, and if it wasn’t for Dís, the Axes would have folded years ago. She brought the same tenacity to the front office that she had once shown as his wing and later as a center, and he mourned her retirement as he collapsed back on the couch. With the timing he had grown to rely on, his phone buzzed across the coffee table, but he snagged it with ease and answered without looking at the screen.

“I was thinking about calling you.”

“Do it next time. What the hell did you do to our dear cousin?”

“Balin cornered me downtown and I had to tell him the truth.”

“Damnit.” There was the rustling of papers and the distant whistle of the kettle. “Kíli, will you get that please! Sorry, brother, they’re just getting breakfast.”

“Tell them I want to see them out for their run tomorrow morning. As far as they’re concerned, pre season started yesterday.”

“They were, oh mighty coach.”

“Sorry.”

“Fíli had to drag Kíli out by his hair, of course.”

“Mom!” Thorin couldn’t help his smile when he heard Kíli’s anguished cry and Fíli’s cackle.

“They’re doing fine with their training, believe me. Are you going to be at the skills clinic this time?”

“Yes.”

“The press will be there.” Sitting upright, Thorin glared at his reflection in the dark television screen. He didn’t mind running clinics for the Blue Mountain youth hockey organization; in fact, he looked forward to them, but he didn’t like using them for publicity.

“That snotty sports reporter who was on the news this morning?”

“No, the paper.”

“Oh.” That was better, if only by the thinnest margin. The sports writer for the Report was genial, if young, and she never went for a cheap question even after the worst games. Her photographer knew how to be unobtrusive, unlike the camera crews, another point in their favor. “I suppose the publicity might help.”

“What did they say to get under your skin?” The boys were fighting over the blender, but Dís shouted at them to be quiet for a minute longer as Thorin slumped back on the couch.

“Just something about the end of the season that rubbed the wrong way.”

“You should know better than to watch, then.”

“What other channel’s going to tell me when the next arts festival is going to be?” It was a dirty tactic, bringing up her weakness for pottery, and Thorin waited for the retaliation with relish.

“Shut up.” But Dís laughed, and Thorin knew she was shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, brother. I expect your paperwork in my inbox before noon.”

“Sure thing boss. Bye.” Typing up the inventory reports and the news about the goalie Gandalf had found took little time, to his frustration, and he was left with an empty house and no distractions. He hoped Dís would be able to scrape together enough money for the contract they needed, but he knew better than to try and tell her how to do anything on the operations side. She wasn’t above tripping him in front of the cameras or getting him low in the corner when they skated together, and she knew he couldn’t make himself retaliate.

Despite his early morning run and trip into town, Thorin found himself back at the rink, this time driving his car to avoid attention, letting himself into the private entrance to the Axes’ gym. If he was going to have any moral authority over his nephews, his preseason training should have started two days ago, and thoughts of long shifts to come meant every second at the gym was going to count. The tall room was a converted racquetball court whose floor still squeaked even underneath the padding, reaching boiling temperatures in the summer and freezing in the winter, but the equipment was everything a hockey team could ask for, even if most of it was second hand. He was alone, and left the stereo silent as he warmed up and went through an easy leg and core circuit, letting his muscles take a break after a punishing season. Up on one of the whiteboards, Gandalf had written a reminder not to start pushing their max for two weeks, and though Thorin could have used a session on the sled or the lifting cage, he obeyed. He wasn’t twenty anymore, and his body was going to need every day to knit itself back together.

The workout cleared his head, and he was able to go sit in an ice bath to make his plans. The statute of limitations might have run out on any charges he might have brought against Smaug, but the court of public opinion had no such niceties. The threat of exposure alone might work, and if that failed, the ensuing media frenzy would ruin the Dragon’s already unpopular owner. Thorin spent a pleasant half hour imagining walking the halls and skating the ice of Erebor before the timer dinged and he heaved himself out of the freezing tub. A sudden voice from behind him made him twitch in surprise as he grabbed his towel from the bench. “Done already?”

“I get here early, unlike you slackers.” Without having to turn around, Thorin knew who was speaking and continued. “What about you, Dwalin, you took two steps inside the gym and got a muscle cramp already?”

“Wanted to make sure no one had broken in, actually.”

“Nothing on here worth stealing.” Towel around his neck, Thorin finally turned to greet his alternate captain. “Talk to your brother yet?”

“No. He knows I don’t like gossip. You’ll tell me tomorrow.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you here at nine sharp.” Dwalin nodded, jerking his head at the door going to the locker room.

“Anything I should be prepared for?”

“Good and bad news.”

“Fair enough. See you.” Dwalin disappeared to go change, and Thorin dried off before pulling his shirt back on and putting his hair back into a ponytail. He kept thinking he should cut it, but he knew he would regret it the moment he did. He had heard Kíli call him retro, but there was only the stubborn refusal to change, no deference to any fashion. Tomorrow, he would stand in front of his team and tell them everything, and see if they were with him. He left, finally exhausted enough to sleep for the first time in days, and didn’t wake until his phone blared music in his ear at seven. Groaning, Thorin stared at the ceiling, willing the morning away, but he was up and in the kitchen soon enough. One cup of coffee, scrambled eggs and some microwaved bacon was enough to settle his stomach, but he knew he would have to go on a shopping trip and fill the fridge with some healthier meals soon. Making sure the bankers box of new playbooks was in the back of his car, Thorin made his way to the rink. Everyone’s car was there, as welcome a sign as he had seen in a long time, and he could hear them talking as he walked inside.

It was past time to go into the locker room, but he was hesitating, wondering how he was going to face the loyal few and tell them how long their odds were of success. But they were his teammates, his family, and they deserved the truth. Gandalf was absent, having left to go meet with his mysterious goaltender, and had promised to bring them soon. In the meantime, there were three ring binders to hand out, and some unpleasant truths to face. Picking up the box, Thorin pushed the heavy door open and found the Axes were all waiting for him, lounging in their empty stalls, most in workout clothes and post season beards, talking among themselves.

“Settle down, settle down.” Truth be told, there was little noise in the locker room, but Thorin was gratified at how quickly everyone fell silent. Twelve expectant faces watched him as he walked around the axes on the carpet and stood by the whiteboard. “First, the good news. We might have a goalie here by next week, and here are your playbooks. I’d like to start ice sessions next week. Because this is it.” Thorin handed out the binders, but as he went back to the whiteboard, Nori’s pointed question stopped him in his tracks.

“What do you mean?”

“Besides a goalie, we’re not getting any more players this season. Gandalf has developed a strategy that will help us compensate for our low numbers, and had asked for a commitment to being in the best shape of our lives.” Thorin continued, telling them everything, about ticket sales and Smaug in a torrent that left his stomach churning and his mouth dry. “And that’s where we are. If we get back into the Show, we’ve got a chance of getting Erebor back too. We’ll have the money to make up for these years of deprivation, and I promise, you’ll all get jobs with me when you want to retire. If we don’t, we tried. I don’t know what else to do.”

“What does your sister think? She’s got as much a stake in this as we do.” Glóin, who had a smaller share in the team inherited from his father, made a good point and Thorin thanked him for bringing it up, explaining that only through Dís’ negotiations that the Axes had been able to get enough money to scrape together their operating budget.

“And if we do rejoin the Show, I’d hand over enough of my shares to make her full owner. She’s objected, but even if she won’t take them she’ll be the general manager for us.” Everyone nodded, the sibling accord enough to reassure them the team would not suffer behind the scenes. They all knew Dís had been working miracles for them to have played together for as long as they had.

“We’re with you!” Kíli leapt to his feet, only to be hauled back to the bench by his brother. Thorin smiled at his nephews, but they were young and talented, with their entire career in front of them. Balin cleared his throat, and stood when Thorin nodded to him.

“I was unsure about this, but that was before I heard about Smaug. If we can get Erebor back, and play in the Show, any amount of effort is worth the battle. I’ll play, no matter how few we might be, and stand at your side.” Trying not to show what his old friend’s words meant, Thorin turned next to Dori, who was tapping his finger against his lips while shooting worried glances at Ori, who was staring off into the distance.

“You’re taking a gamble that none of us are going to get seriously injured.”

“And a few more.” Thorin knew both Nori and Dori were worried about their younger brother, his size putting Ori at a disadvantage even in this league. “If you need to think about it, I understand.”

“There’s not much to think about. I’m with you.” Nori grinned, showing off his new missing tooth that he refused to have fixed.

“Good for you, brother.” Dori rolled his eyes, saying nothing to his defensive partner, but Thorin knew they were all committed when Bifur stood and shook Thorin’s hand, the scar on his forehead faded but still eye catching, and returned to his cousin’s side with a broad smile, his steps surer than Thorin had seen in months. The smiles on Bombur and Bofur’s faces spoke volumes, and everyone else nodded when he looked at them.

“Thank you.” Thorin nodded to them all, knowing their journey had just begun. “Spend the weekend with your playbooks and we’ll start on ice training next week. I’ll let you all know when Gandalf returns with our goaltender. I look forward to seeing what we can do.” As his team cheered and milled around the room, Thorin let out a long breath and sank to the bench at his stall, his heart racing. He was going home.


	2. An Unexpected Goaltender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf has brought back the Burglar to meet the Axes. The mysterious goaltender is nothing like Thorin expected, and he is forced to confront his own prejudices before he can begin to accept the newcomer.

The smell of vulcanized rubber was heavy in the air, and Thorin breathed it in as he grabbed two rolls of tape, one black, the other white, and a new disc of wax. Even now the tiny closet they called their equipment room, and had for a decade now, elicited a sneer. Erebor had a complex of rooms, each dedicated to one function and furnished with only the best and latest, keeping her team safe and prepared. Slamming the door shut, he went back to his stall and grabbed his practice sticks, taping the blade at heel and center, leaving the toe bare for the moment. He could hear his grandfather reciting “black for the blade, white for the knob,” instructions for Frerin who had just received his first goalie stick, and went to find the heat gun to melt the wax over the tape so it would last longer. Bofur was there already, running the gun back and forth idly, humming under his breath and watching the progress with a deceptive ease that had lured many defensemen to their doom. “How’s it going, cap?”

“Just fine.” Debating the wisdom of silence, Thorin held back from dumping his frustrations on the solid center and grunted instead. “How’s your cousin? He seemed better last week.”

“Yeah, Bif’s getting better, but he’s still going to therapy. Doctors want him to stop but he doesn’t know anything else but the game, and he’s not retiring to an analyst’s chair from here.” It had been five years since the fight that had driven a skate blade into Bifur’s skull, and everyone had assumed his career over. When he had come to that year’s training camp, Thorin had been incredulous, but the only change in the wing’s skills was his tendency to yell for the puck in nonsense words that his cousins had no problem interpreting. And Thorin wasn’t going to cut him from the roster for that. Not when he had only been in that fight to keep Balin safe.

“None of us are. But we’re going to give it another shot, eh?” Bofur handed over the gun with a smile and went back to his stall. The locker room was soon full, everyone looking rested after the weekend apart, but Thorin said nothing unless spoken to first, watching his nephews engage Ori in a mock wrestling bout, their energy infectious. Fíli saw his practice jersey with the A stitched above his heart and touched it before shooting his uncle a delighted grin and breaking Ori free from Kíli’s headlock, and turning back to his stall to get ready. Thorin had bought new practice jerseys with his own money, and the reactions to the royal blue with silver axes, and the silver with blue mountains silhouetted, were worth every penny. For now, the defensemen took silver, the forwards blue, and most of them left for the ice together, where Gandalf was waiting with his playbook and his endless optimism. Left with Dwalin, Thorin allowed his shoulders to slump as he leaned against the wall.

“No goalie today?”

“He’ll be here later, Gandalf said. Just want to get some of the rust off early.” The big wing nodded without judgment, most of his face hidden behind his beard, and stood.

“See you out there.” Dwalin touched Thorin’s left shin pad with his stick before walking out the door, leaving the room quiet. Finishing with the last straps on his chest protector, Thorin threw on his own jersey, the white C filling him with the same dread and pride he had felt when his father had pressed it into his hand over a decade ago.

Walking down the long hallway, Thorin tapped the painting of Erebor next to the entrance to the bench, and found the rest of the team skating laps, Gandalf in his long grey coat on the bench, smiling.

“I think they’re ready, Thorin.”

“Then let’s begin.” Hoping the younger players had spent the time they needed with the playbook, Thorin watched as Gandalf drew the first drill to start the new breakout, which required pinpoint passing and a commitment to move together they had never tried before. No one had any questions, and Thorin gathered the pucks to the far corner in the defensive zone, not having a chance to speak to Dwalin before the first whistle blew and it was his turn to grab the puck and make a pass to Balin, who powered around the circle before breaking towards the neutral zone. Nori and Dori, working together, managed to break up the trio’s forward momentum when Dwalin’s pass wasn’t as crisp as it could have been, and Thorin went to the next starting position already frustrated and trying to shake it, clearing his mind before the next two lines made their way down the ice, Kíli dodging around Glóin and hitting the empty net with a grin.

In all, the ten minutes went well, though Kíli didn’t pass when he needed to and Bifur missed a pass that would have given them a goal, but it had been some time since they had all been on the ice together and Gandalf was smiling when he called them in for a quick water break as he drew on the board. He diagramed a simple passing drill that seemed to be designed just to boost their confidence. Thorin had to admit, as he caught the pass from Fíli and turned to skate out of the zone to shoot on an empty net, it was helping him, and the next time they tried working together as a team, he could already see improvement in everyone’s movements. Gandalf called them all in with a whistle,

“Keep studying those diagrams on the breakout. It’s the cornerstone of our strategy this season. If you can hit those passes, we’re going to surprise a lot of people.” Everyone nodded, drinking their water and watching their coach drawing on the board, his mug of tea perched on the boards, still steaming.

He was considered odd, a coach who didn’t put on skates to be with his team, but he was an effective coach no matter his eccentricities, and his long career commanded respect. Many questioned his sudden move down a level to work with the Axes, only a season ago, but Thorin now knew it was the desire to take down Smaug that drove the old man. He could not guess at how their paths had crossed, but Thorin would take Gandalf’s aid no matter the reasons. The next drill started, led by Nori starting behind the net, and Thorin lost himself in skating and playing the game he loved.

In all, after an hour, Thorin decided the upcoming season had some potential, and he helped push the nets out of the way of the zam as the youngsters gathered the pucks into the worn white bucket, now missing its handle from overzealous games in the past. Gandalf glanced up at the red clock on the far end of the rink and nodded. “Bilbo should be here now. Shall we?”

“Goalie!” Kíli cheered, and led the way off of the ice, through the bench and into the hallway leading to their locker room, bounding on his blades. Thorin stopped for a moment to remove his helmet and take a last drink from his water bottle to make sure his throat wasn’t dry, the sudden sinking of his stomach reminding him how much was riding on this season. There were precious few goaltenders who were good enough to propel a team through the punishing schedule of a league run who didn’t already have offers from better, richer teams. When he pushed into the locker room, the rest of the team was milling against one wall, around the table that held the aging CD player, and Thorin couldn’t see anyone he didn’t know until Balin turned, frowning, and whistled when he saw his captain waiting in the doorway.

“Lads, calm down. Give her some space.” Confused, Thorin stepped forward as the team dispersed to their stalls, and gave him a glimpse of a short woman, her wavy blond hair swept up in a messy bun and wearing a suit, arms folded across her chest. The only question he could manage burst from his mouth and he knew she was taken aback by his anger.

“Bilbo?” After a moment, she shook her head and sighed, spreading her arms wide.

“Tch, that would be Gandalf. Nickname. Real name is Belladonna. Nice to meet you, Thorin.” She held out her hand, and Thorin gripped it, unable to think of a thing to say. Her grip was strong, but he let his hand fall to his side faster than courtesy demanded, and the silence became tension as she shifted back and forth, eyes darting between Thorin and the rest of the team. She opened her mouth, a spark of anger showing, when Gandalf walked inside and beamed.

“Ah, Bilbo, it’s been too long.”

“You didn’t tell them, did you?” She crossed her arms. “Most amusing for you indeed, old man.”

“Forgive me.” Unrepentant, he gave Bilbo a hug and smiled down at her annoyance. “I wasn’t sure Thorin would agree to this meeting.”

“I wouldn’t have wasted everyone’s time.” That swung her head around, sneering as she stepped around Gandalf to confront Thorin, and he found himself flinching back from someone he could pick up with one hand.

“I played four years varsity, I’ll have you know.” Bilbo planted her feet, daring him to comment, and Thorin tried not to show how surprised he was. Most goalies were fortunate to make it two in college, given the rate of recruitment, and her diminutive stature made such an achievement even more impressive. But that was another stumbling block.

“You’re a good foot shorter than me, and I’m not the biggest guy in the league by a long shot. We can’t attach the D to the net constantly to keep you safe.” Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, and her lips twisted into a sneer.

“Keep me safe? Listen, I might have been in the Ennor League, but some of the girls are bigger than you, and I still came out of there with four championships. I’m no beer leaguer.” Thorin heard Fíli or Kíli, he could never tell their voices apart, whisper something about mom being furious, and spoke as much to them as he did Bilbo, trying to explain his reluctance.

“That was women’s college hockey. It’s a different game here. We’re all bucking for the next step up, and frankly, if we don’t make a playoff run this year, we might get bumped down to the bush leagues. And we won’t survive that.”

“I know the history of the Axes. Besides, anyone comes after me, the refs are going to be right there to back me up. You’ve never even seen me skate and you’re judging my ability to handle myself.” Thorin opened his mouth to retort when his arm brushed against hers, and he froze. At some point during their argument, they had both closed in on the other, and now he was aware the top of her head reached his chin and she smelled like leather and roses. Mouth dry, Thorin took a step back and Bilbo’s arms tightened around herself, but she didn’t break her gaze and he couldn’t help admiring her nerve. “And here I thought the pros were different. Wasn’t your sister the first woman to play in the Show?” Balin sucked in his breath and the rest of the team froze, but Thorin knew, looking at Bilbo’s eyes, that she meant no disrespect.

“Dís is a great player, and earned her place, but she was forced to retire precisely because the pros aren’t different. Or they weren’t, when she was young.” Her shoulders slumped and Bilbo took two steps back from him, face creased in a frown. Thorin unfolded his arms as she replied.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You must know how much she means to a lot of young women, though. I was nominated for the Dís Thráinson award and it was one of the biggest honors of my career. I didn’t put two and two together until I saw you.” All of the heat had left the room, and Thorin managed to smile, and saw the identical grins on his nephew’s faces.

“Then I’m surprised you didn’t know she’s in the front office here.” Bilbo’s eyes lit up and she turned as if she wanted to go confirm Thorin’s words right away, but she stilled herself and took a deep breath.

“I stopped paying attention to a lot of things when I thought my career was over, honestly. Didn’t even watch the last playoffs.” Taking the envelope with the contract from Balin, Thorin proffered it as he asked another question. Her hesitation in taking the paper confirmed many of his worst fears.

“And you think you’re ready for this?”

“I know I can play. But look at yourselves. You’ve been together for years, Gandalf said, and every time your Captain moves you move with him. I’m not sure any goaltender you bring in right now is going to be able to do what you need, to break in and be a true teammate.” She glanced over at Gandalf, who had taken up position in the corner, and let out a sigh. “And as much as I appreciate Gandalf’s assurances, there have been precious few women in my position in this league. It’s going to mean more scrutiny than you’re used to, and more than I’m sure I want.”

“Lass has some valid points.” Dwalin grumbled, and Bilbo seemed to shrink in on herself.

“I just think you might be taking on too much with me. Why don’t you talk it over as a team?” She turned and left without another word, and Thorin glanced around the locker room. No one moved until Balin sighed.

“My brother is correct, and so is she.”

“You’re none of you correct.” Gandalf snorted, face angry. “Thorin, a word?” Without glancing back, their coach left for his office, and Thorin found himself flinching before following. Once in the cramped space, both men refused to sit, eyeing each other across the scant distance between them. “If I say that Bilbo is the goaltender you need, then she is, if all of you must be convinced. Four championships, a host of honors and an instinct for play that cannot be taught. You’ll not find anyone else more qualified before the season.” Snorting, Thorin folded his arms to stop himself from making a rash move, but couldn’t unclench his fists.

“She herself disagrees!”

“Because she was greeted with suspicion and fear.” His coach had never snapped at him like this, and Thorin found himself hunching his shoulders before reminding himself he had more power than most players, but Gandalf’s icy stare brought Thorin up short. He had interrogated Bilbo, not giving her a chance to relax and form a good impression of anyone before she had been thrown on the defensive. “Who else did you think would come and play for us? Nori is a solid goaltender, but we need his chemistry with his brother on defense more.”

“I know that. You could have told me a few things to prepare me, Gandalf. She...well, first of all, that she is a she. She’s not wrong about the increased scrutiny and media.”

“It’s one of the reasons I thought of her. More attention is what we need when we use the evidence we have against Smaug.” Speechless, Thorin sank to the worn chair in front of the desk and shook his head.

“That’s cold.”

“And the fans need a reason to buy tickets. I love Bilbo. I wouldn’t choose a goaltender in whom I lacked faith. But the free publicity early on in the season is going to help later.”

“Mahal fucking wept. You’re playing a long game, coach.”

“It’s why you hired me, Thorin.” Unperturbed, Gandalf sat behind his desk. “But understand this. I have worked with many players in my time. Isildur, Glorfindel, even Durin himself. And I always saw in Bilbo the potential to be among their number. She doesn’t like to talk about herself, but in addition to playing for her school, she was on the Arthedain team for the two years they won worlds. She’s played the big games with all the frenzy that entails, and as I told you, there’s a reason they call her the Burglar.”

“You’ve known her since she was a mite?”

“And her mother before her. A good hockey family who’ve been playing for generations, though never at the highest level.” Gandalf leaned back and glanced up at one of the numerous pictures hanging on his office wall; a dark haired young woman, helmet pushed back and leaning on her stick, standing next to a younger Gandalf, though his hair was still grey.

“She must be proud of her daughter, then.”

“Alas, Belladonna and Bungo died a few years back.” The old coach cleared his throat and tapped the binder in front of him. “So?”

“It’s not like I have a dearth of goaltenders knocking at my door and willing to play for a team on its last legs. Ask her to look over the contract. And I’ll let the team know.”

“Thank you, Thorin.” Thorin grunted as he took the proffered paper with a phone number scrawled on it and left, shame and hope fighting in his heart. He went back into the locker room and whistled, loud enough to hurt his own ears, and waited.

“I’m going to talk to her. We didn’t give her a chance to find her footing with us.”

“Gandalf vouches for her?” Balin glanced up, inquiring, and Thorin nodded.

“Just be prepared for her to say no. No one get your hopes up, or mention this until I let you know what’s happening. There’s an arms circuit on the board in the gym. One hour.” The workout was conducted in silence, though the pounding music Kíli insisted on helped cover everyone’s quiet. From the many quick glances shot his way, he knew their minds were on Bilbo and what she was going to say.

To his utter astonishment, at the end when everyone was wiping down the machines and racking the weights, Ori walked over, mouth set, and met Thorin’s eyes. “I hope you give her the same chance you gave me.” Thorin could see Dori starting to walk over, but Nori intercepted his brother with ease, and the captain turned his attention back to the young man in front of him.

“You earned your place with us, Ori. But I will give her the same chance, I promise.” Ori nodded, and without another word went back to the locker room. Dwalin grinned and Nori patted Dori on the shoulder as they followed their brother, and the rest of the team seemed to be in a better mood as they showered and left.

Thorin stayed behind, to meet with the youth hockey coordinator and confirm the ice times and dates for the clinics. One meeting led to more work, and it was getting dark when he able to leave the Fortress, his car forlorn in the empty lot.

Back home, and ignoring the missed calls from his family, Thorin reheated supper from the night before and sat on his couch, but didn’t turn the set back on. He stared at the pictures on the wall, focusing on the one in the middle after a moment. His family beamed back at him, gathered around the Arkenstone and standing in the home team’s locker room in Erebor. He could still remember the glitter of the trophy that been called the Axes’ more than any other team in the history of the Rhovanion League. He hadn’t touched it then, respecting tradition, but he knew every contour, every name engraved on the rings of silver underneath the crystal cup. His grandfather’s, his father’s, his mother’s, numerous cousins and other friends joining them in eternal glory. He had no doubt that once the Axes had rejoined the RHL, they would use their momentum, newfound money and power to make a run for the Arkenstone that would live in hockey history as one of the most improbable returns ever seen.

His laptop was nearby, and Thorin got online, checking his emails and disregarding most of them, and was about to get dinner when he remembered the little logo, a snarling badger with green eyes, on Bilbo’s jacket. Clicking through to the University of Tuckborough’s home page, Thorin went to the athletics tab and saw Bilbo’s face underneath a headline about the graduates from that year. She had won the school’s award for the athlete with highest GPA, and below that there was a list of other awards and notable wins. Had he only seen the list, he would have agreed to meet whoever had accomplished so much, and nodded. He had allowed her gender to blind him. There were two calls he needed to make.

“Dís, I met the goalie. Her name is Belladonna Baggins.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line, but Thorin waited.

“I know of her. Why didn’t you tell me you were considering a woman, Thorin?”

“Because I didn’t know she was one until this morning.”

“I think I met her once. If you’re worried, I’ll take the press conference. It might get more coverage.”

“Did Gandalf already tell you?”

“No. I gave him free rein over the goaltender situation. I was busy with other things, and there’s a reason we hired him.”

“Never mind.” Dís would not react well to hearing some of the more cynical reasons Gandalf had offered, and Thorin changed the subject. “You’re her hero, anyway.”

“That’s sweet of her. Where’d she play again?”

“Tuckborough.”

“ _Tuck_...Thorin, they’ve been champions the past four years! They have a fantastic program, men’s and women’s side. You’d know this if you ever bothered to read my scouting reports.” Wincing, Thorin tried to defend himself, but knew he was trouble that he couldn’t get out of without some work.

“I do read them, I just don’t pay attention to school names. Isn’t it out in the middle of nowhere in the Shire?”

“So? Just makes hockey the focus. Much better than Gondor or Rohan.” She yawned and Thorin glanced at the clock. He needed to make the second call soon. He got Dís off the phone by promising to come over for lunch and hung up shaking his head. His little sister would kill him if Bilbo didn’t sign. The phone rang three times, when a breathless voice answered.

“Yes?”

“Is this Miss Baggins?”

“Sure is.”

“This is Thorin.”

“Oh. Hi.” Her voice had gone flat, and Thorin stood.

“I wanted to apologize for this morning. It was rude of me to put you on the spot like I did.” She snorted, but he could hear the amusement in her voice.

“To be fair, Gandalf ambushed you.”

“Yes he did. Have you looked over the contract?”

“Eventually. Very thorough, I must say. That starting salary seems fair.”

“I’m not going to lie, Miss Baggins. There’s not much hope of success, and this could end your career if you get hurt or we don’t make the playoffs. You could still tryout for the WRHL.”

“I appreciate that, but there are a few reasons I didn’t register for the draft.” Her voice did not invite further questioning. “The reason I agreed to listen to Gandalf is because I trust him. And the challenge of your team appeals to me.”

“At least you know it’s a challenge.”

“I do. You should check your mailbox. Night.” She hung up and Thorin stared down at his phone, bewildered, and walked outside to his front yard shaking his head. Inside, the envelope he had given Bilbo waited for him, and when he took out the papers, her signature was scrawled underneath his on the top page.

Laughing, he glanced down the road and imagined he saw her disappearing around the corner, heading back towards town. “Welcome to the Axes, Belladonna.”

 

Among many of the clauses of Bilbo’s contract was the right of either party to cancel it after a week, so Thorin was nervous as he arrived at the rink the morning after their disastrous meeting for Bilbo’s first ice time. If all went well, he would be bringing Dís the contract that afternoon. He hoped he would be giving his sister good news. Fíli and Kíli’s beat up Jeep, Dís’ old car, was parked by the team’s entrance, as was Gandalf’s brown sedan, and even as Thorin parked, Dwalin was rumbling up on his motorcycle. Thorin waited, hands in his pockets, until his friend shut off the loud engine. “Thought you weren’t supposed to be riding any more.”

“I’m careful, old man. I don’t go out on the highway.” Dwalin hung his helmet on the seat, secure in the knowledge it would be there when he came out, and joined Thorin as they walked inside. They found Fíli talking to Bilbo, while Kíli was relacing his skates. A big blue bag topped with green and white pads was sitting in the corner, away from the stalls, and Thorin cursed under his breath when he realized they were going to have to order new pads and gloves in team colors for Bilbo. He tried to smile when she glanced up at him, her hair up in messy ponytail and covered with a green headband, and she stood as he walked closer.

“Morning. If you just want to use the stall on the end for now, we’ll get yours set up properly soon.”

“Sounds good to me.” She started to walk over towards her gear, stretching her back and arms, when Thorin remembered something he had thought of last night.

“And, uh, if you want we have a partition…” She spun, eyes narrowed, and folded her arms. She was wearing green shorts and a white shirt with the Tuckborough badger, and Thorin found himself taking a step back from her obvious anger.

“Okay, I didn’t think this was going to be a problem. I’ve been playing on boy’s team since I was five. I stay in my bra and pants, you lads can all keep your pants on, and it’s nothing more revealing than a swimsuit. If I’m on this team I am not going to be hidden away.” Dwalin took two steps back, coward that he was, leaving Thorin alone for the moment, and Thorin did not blame his friend. If he had said the same to Dís he’d be on the floor already. Some welcome he was providing someone who had agreed to try and help him. It wasn’t her fault Gandalf had a perverse sense of humor.

“You’re right.”

“Thank you.” She let out a long breath, then went to drag her bag and pads to her temporary stall. Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, when someone nudged him in the ribs.

“Yes, Kíli?”

“Wrong.”

“Same thing, Fíli.” His nephew steered him into the corner, hand on his elbow.

“She’s super nice, uncle, stop being so grumpy at her. We need her.”

“Keep her happy, then. And call me grumpy one more time, I’ll take you into the corner, pup.” Fíli grinned, never impressed with his uncle’s threats, and went to his own stall. Thorin kept his eyes down, until the body language of the others said that Bilbo was at least partway dressed. She sat in her pants, mismatched socks of green and white on her legs, and was bent over her white skates, the long blades catching the overhead fluorescents. She met Thorin’s glance and gave him a half smile, one he returned after a moment before turning back to his own laces. At least she didn’t hold a grudge.

Over the next few minutes, the rest of the team arrived, most greeting Bilbo with enthusiasm. Ori stuttered a greeting and fled to his stall, cheeks red, but Bilbo didn’t laugh at the young man, just watched him go and shrugged before falling into her pads and began doing up the various straps and buckles, testing each one before moving up her leg to the next. They seemed loose, but he knew better than to question a goaltender’s equipment. Thorin finished dressing as soon as he could, holding his helmet in one hand and his stick in the other as he stood. “Kíli, you’re on water bottle duty today. See you all out there.” Walking out towards the ice, Thorin could hear the Zamboni, and rounded the corner in time to see the old rink manager singing to himself as he spun the wheel to start another circuit of the rink.

Thorin could see some of the kids who had been practicing that morning, but they were being led away by their coach. No one but the team needed to be watching Bilbo her first ice time. They would get to meet her soon enough, if everything went well.

Thorin waved back at Radagast who was making the final pass on the resurfacer, the blue paint chipped and fading on the two axes on the side. Once the doors at the far end were closed, Thorin opened the near door on the bench to the ice, and started on his warmup laps, testing his new edges on the corners and nodding, deciding he would stick with the new hollow as he transitioned from as going forward to backward, the metal carving through the fresh ice with a satisfying sound. Fíli and Dwalin were out next, followed by Bilbo.

Her dark helmet was pushed back on her head, badger’s claws wrapped around the green T on her chin guard. What Thorin could see of her face was serene as she dropped her cage and stepped onto the ice. Right away, her strides were smooth and powerful, and he knew she had been skating for her entire life as she passed him with ease. By the time the rest of the team was out on the ice, Bilbo had already set up one of nets, driving the iron stakes into the ice and lifting the posts one by one to drop them onto the stabilizing pegs. She started on some movement drills, but when she dropped into a full butterfly, her pads flared to either side of her, even with her upright torso her head was below the crossbar. Thorin could see nothing but open net, and his stomach dropped as she pushed across the ice with astonishing speed.

Gandalf stepped out onto the bench, his gloved hands wrapped around a mug of tea and his playbook. Thorin skated over, leaning on the boards and bringing his stick up underneath his chin. “Anything you’d like us to do?”

“Let’s run through a pre game warmup with her and then have a little scrimmage. See how she reacts to the team as a whole.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get Kíli to get the spare jerseys.” Kíli leapt over the boards at his uncle’s command, balancing on his toes and running for the locker room as pucks were dumped onto the ice and Thorin held up his stick, summoning the team to center ice. Bilbo followed after a moment, taking a knee by Ori and pushing her mask back onto her head, watching Thorin with unblinking eyes. He explained the new warmup routines Gandalf had devised, delegating puck wrangling to the three youngest players once Kíli had returned with an armful of jerseys, and after making sure everyone understood, led them into the near zone. Bilbo went to the net, tapping the two posts with her paddle, and executed a few fast movement drills, covering the entire crease and all the angles as the pucks were pushed out to the blue line.

Forming a semi circle, the Axes starting sending shots at the net, giving Bilbo the chance to learn the angles of the rink. No one shot to score, most aiming at her chest and pads, and she didn’t flinch when Bifur sent a puck whining past her ear at the end. He skated over to tap her pads in apology, and she gave him a nod while she pushed back to the glove side post to get ready for the next drill. This was going to be the first real test of her ability, and Thorin skated out of the corner, accepting a pass from Dwalin and turning at the apex of the circle to unleash a wrist shot at the far high corner, over her glove hand. She shifted her chest, glove held turned up, and while she didn’t catch the puck, she deflected it off into the corner and turned to the opposite side to face Dwalin’s blistering shot at her pads, only for her stick to send the puck flying past Thorin’s nose. Kíli laughed but Bilbo’s eyes went wide, mouth dropping open for a moment before she shook herself and turned to continue the drill, letting in Fíli’s shot through her five hole. She performed well the rest of the warmup, but the momentary break in her focus did nothing to ease Thorin’s concerns.

She and Gandalf spoke as Thorin divided the team into blue and silver, promising they would switch having the goalie after ten minutes. Thorin chose to attack first, going to the far bench with Dwalin, Balin, Glóin and Óin as their defensemen, and Bombur to be their substitute for the moment. The other half of the team, wearing silver, listened to Gandalf while Bilbo stayed in net, drinking water and watching them all.

“This is more about testing her than anything we do. Let’s just work on passing and keep it simple.”

“Sounds good, Thorin.” Glóin agreed, bouncing his stick on the ice. “She’s fast, eh?”

“Let’s see if we can test that, shall we?”

“Hey, Uncle, let’s go!” Thorin waved an irritable hand at Kíli, and went to go take the face off against Fíli at the center circle. The captain won with ease, passing the puck back to Glóin and chasing the dump. Bilbo was out of her net in an instant, stopping the shot behind the net and firing it away from Thorin, back up towards Glóin, and hitting Ori’s stick with her pass. The silver team broke out and Thorin skated over to Bilbo.

“Nice.”

“Thanks.” He rejoined the play, helping Balin recover the puck and starting another attack. He caught Ori and Kíli flat footed, and swooped in behind the net to wait for the rest of his line to get set up. Balin dropped behind Dori and Thorin fed the older player the puck, and Balin timed his shot so Bilbo couldn’t see him, the traffic in front of the net providing the perfect screen. She was down on her knees, paddle covering the ice and pads wide, and the low shot hit her mid shin, the rebound dribbling to the corner. She was back on her feet in a flash as Thorin beat Dori to the puck, sending another pass to a hovering Dwalin in the slot. Nori was there, forcing the big forward to shot fast and low, and Bilbo snagged the puck in her glove, pulling it to her chest and holding up her stick to ward off Balin.

Thorin caught Gandalf’s eye and nodded as he slowed and got ready for another face off. Bombur came on for Balin, and Bofur and Bifur substituted for Fíli and Kíli, the two youngsters bumping gloves with Bilbo before skating over to their bench. She flipped the puck into the circle, hitting the faceoff dot and dropping back into her stance as Thorin and Bofur tapped their sticks together and went for the puck. Thorin tapped it back to Glóin, who was waiting with stick in the air. He let a blistering slap shot towards Bilbo, who was waiting, but Bifur had slipped by Nori and was waiting on the far side for the rebound off of Bilbo’s blocker. The puck hit the back of the net, and Thorin waited. No one could have made that save. It was as much Nori’s fault as hers, but he wanted to see how the goaltender handled it. She glanced behind her, but her face gave away nothing as she stood and flipped the puck out of the net, and Bilbo glanced up at the scoreboard, before centering herself in the net and waiting.

The rest of the scrimmage went well, Kíli scoring on a pass from his brother to bring the game to a tie, and at the end of twenty minutes Thorin glided over to where Bilbo was stretching in her crease, kneeling at her side and spitting towards the corner to buy himself a moment of time. She glanced up and smiled, bringing her knees back underneath her so her head was on level was his, and pushing her helmet back on her head. “So? What’d you think?”

“I think you’re good. Some more practice with us and you’ll be ready for this season. And what do you think?”

“You guys are good too. Fast. I’ll work hard, Thorin.” She was eager now, and had lost the last traces of defensiveness that had worried him before. He could ask no more of her than that, and he made his decision without another moment of thought.

“Then come on over here and we’re going to start practicing the new breakout.” He tapped her pad and she grinned before they skated over to the bench, and Thorin knew he had found his goaltender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two links, one an overview of the [basics of hockey](http://proicehockey.about.com/od/learnthegame/a/ice-hockey-rule.htm), and the other a diagram of a [typical ice arena](http://0.tqn.com/d/proicehockey/1/S/Y/7/HockeyRink.png), might help those of you who are new to the sport.


	3. Of Teachings and Trainings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin does his best to welcome Bilbo to the Blue Mountains, but finds welcoming the stranger more difficult than he thought. Meanwhile, the draft is approaching and the Axes have their own off season lives to navigate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to [DT](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/profile) and [Bogs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bogs/profile) who talked me through some of my writing fails to get me to a good solution for Sigrid’s role in this story.

After the ice time, and a quick shower so Bilbo could use the lukewarm water, Thorin went to Gandalf’s office to wait for her, marshaling his thoughts. She was new to the area, and to the league. There were a lot of details to take care of, and the draft was going to be in a month a half. They all needed to be ready by then. Someone knocked at the open door and he glanced up to see Bilbo’s face. “Hey, goalie, come in.”

“Thanks, cap.” Watching her take the few steps to the chair facing him, her damp twisted up into a messy bun, Thorin could see what he had dismissed as extra weight on her arms and legs was in fact all muscle. He kicked himself. He remembered what Dís had looked like at Bilbo’s age, and he should have known better than to compare Bilbo to Fíli or Dwalin. For her size, she was probably stronger than half the team, and from what she had demonstrated on the ice, faster than any of them. “So, you think this is going to work?”

“I do. I need you to get a little faster, more explosive moving to your blocker side.” She nodded, and he was pleased she could accept criticism. “And puck handling. I know you can’t do much with the new rules, but Gandalf’s playbook for this year relies on you being our third defenseman to help counter any dump and chase systems.”

“You got it.”

“You’ll start getting your paychecks next week, so get Glóin your account information. And I don’t really know what to do about housing for you. Normally we put rookies up with one of the vets.” Thorin started to count on his fingers, trying to remember everyone’s situation. “Let’s see, Bifur is staying with Bofur for now, and with the new baby Bombur’s out of room. Gimli, Glóin’s lad, is getting to the age that he needed his own room so they’re full. Ori is still living with his brother, my nephews live with their mother, and the rest of the lads all live alone. And believe me, I’ve been over to all of their flats, I wouldn’t want to live with any of them.”

“I can find my own flat somewhere. Or a room. I’m just crashing on Gandalf’s futon in his office right now.”

“He cleared it off for you?” Bilbo laughed, confirming she knew the old man well, and shook her head.

“I had to use a shovel, but I managed. He and Radagast are two of a kind, aren’t they? I’m thrilled he’s here. Gandalf was always full of stories about their time together.”

“Hockey was different back then.” Thorin leaned back, waving at some of the black and white pictures behind him depicting Gandalf’s early career. The old man could have his own wing in the Hall of Fame if he ever consented to hand over his collection. Bilbo’s eyes slid past the picture Gandalf had pointed out before, her smile fading for a moment before she looked back at Thorin with careful cheerfulness.

“Truth. You’d never catch me in the old helmets. I’m amazed as many of them are alive as they are.”

“They did have wooden sticks. Couldn’t get the puck to do what we can do now.”

“Good point.” There was still tension between them, crackling underneath their words, but she was making an effort, and Thorin tried to keep his distrust from showing. “So, I’ll find something. This is a really cute little town, even if it’s going to be freezing half the year.”

“Do you have a car?” She shook her head, shrugging one shoulder.  ”You’re going to need something in the winter. It can get brutal.”

“I’m a terrible driver in the snow. It’d be safer for me to bike or ride the bus.”

“Feel free to call one of us if you need a ride. I’d avoid driving with Dwalin, between you and me.” She laughed, glancing at the door, and Thorin could feel his shoulders relax. Maybe this was going to work.

“I will. It’s quite the change from school, eh? Half the team lived in one dorm, and the rest were there all the time.” Bilbo’s face twisted as she stared at her hands. “I miss them.”

“Is this your first time living alone?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why we try and give rookies a billet. Maybe...” He trailed off, the idea that had occurred to him dependant on asking others before speaking to Bilbo. “Anyway, we’ll find you something. Thanks for dropping by. I’m working on the training schedule for ice time, otherwise right now the gym is open. Lots of running trails in the woods.”

“Thanks. I got my keys from Coach, and Dori got all of my measurements for workout gear. Dress code is suits for game day?”

“You got it.”

“Good.” She clamped her lips together. “Listen. I...I know you’re taking a leap of faith here. The draft is going to be crazy. I appreciate what you’re willing to do for me.”

“I was at Dís’ side when she was drafted. I’m glad I can do it again.” Bilbo nodded. There was little else to do besides have her sign a few more papers, she was soon gone and Thorin gathered everything before leaving. Dís would be waiting for him, and as much as he wanted to be in the gym right now, he had promised his sister he would be on time for lunch.

He decided to walk, since her house was close to town, set back on a quiet street close to one of the neighborhood center, boutiques aimed at the tourist trade mingled with over priced coffee shops and an old book store in a Victorian mansion that had given the area its name. When the Thráinsons had moved into the Nogrod district, some eyebrows had been raised among the more conservative, but after two decades no one ever stared at Thorin’s tattoos or Dís’ numerous piercings. There was even a permanent Axes display in the cafe’s window, and Thorin averted his eyes from his own promotional picture, trying not to wince at the forced smile that had been all he could muster. Fíli and Kíli’s pictures were bigger, anyway, because of their so-called appeal to the younger generation, and it looked to Thorin like someone had drawn a heart over Kíli’s face on the window that had only been partially scrubbed away. He laughed even as he hoped that Fíli had done it as a joke. He wasn’t ready to start thinking of the two boys he had helped raised as functional adults yet.

He rounded the corner and walked up the tree lined street, and grabbed the paper off the brick steps before pulling out his keys and stepping inside the comfortable home, wondering when Dís had the time to repaint the old shutters a handsome blue since his last visit. She had replanted the front garden, now brimming with wildflowers that appeared haphazard, but Thorin knew she had planned the entire thing. He closed the door, calling her name. “Dís?”

“Thorin! Right on time. I hear the contract’s been signed.” Her voice was echoing from the back of the house. Something was simmering in the kitchen, filling the house with a mouthwatering scent and Thorin lifted his head to take it in, his stomach rumbling.

“Sure has.” Thorin kicked out of his boots without being asked and tossed his leather jacket over the back of the sofa. “Smells good.” Walking through the living room, Thorin dodged around two sticks and a few tennis balls and slanted his eyes at the big tabby cat sprawled in the hallway. The cat swished his tail and forced Thorin to step over him so he could get to his sister’s office that overlooked the backyard. She glanced up from her computer and waved at him to take the chair by the window, her hair falling over her shoulders and falling into her face before she pushed it back with an impatient hand. Thorin offered his hair tie off his wrist and she accepted with a grin, sweeping her hair back into a messy bun.

“Thanks. It had better, it’s been cooking since this morning. Chili.”

“Mmm. Good stuff.”

“I won’t offer you a beer.”

“Water’s fine, believe me. So?”

“We’ll make the announcement at the draft, since we do get stage time even though we didn’t technically use any of our picks. I’ve already spoken to the league, so we’re squared away there.” She took the envelope Thorin proffered, checking the pages where Bilbo had signed, and set it down on the desk. “Are we trying to keep it a surprise?”

“Gandalf’s idea.”

“It will be nice to have a few positive headlines for a while. Some will call it a stunt, of course.” Her mouth twisted, and Thorin knew she was thinking about her own rookie season. “Her first few games will decide most people’s opinion.”

“Yeah. I had another question. She’s never lived by herself before. I was wondering if you’d be willing to put her in your mother in law unit?” Dís paused, but nodded, her eyes distant.

“Let me meet her first. But I think I’ll say yes. You’ll have to help me clean it out.”

“Sure. She’s on Gandalf’s futon right now and I can’t imagine that’s a comfortable place.”

“Maybe. They are old friends. You know how many nepotism jokes we’re going to be dealing with this season?” Dís grinned, though, and stood, leading her brother to the kitchen.

“We always have. Dad never answered them.” Thorin helped get bowls out and poured them both water from the filter.

“Yeah, Dad lived in a world where trades were made with telegrams.” She snorted and sat down in the breakfast nook, accepting the bowl and glass. “Anyway, brother, I’ve done what I can. It’s up to you and the boys now. I’d join you in the gym but I wouldn’t want to scare any of you.”

“Please, you know you’re welcome anytime. It’d do the boys good for you to kick their ass across the floor and back a few times.”

“No, a GM can’t do that. As tempting as it is, I’ll keep you on your toes, and you can keep the rest cracking. What is she like?”

“Bilbo?” Impatient, his sister crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor. “Feisty.” Dís’ eyebrows met her hairline, and Thorin scrambled to assure his sister he was no lech. “She’s already shouted me down three or four times about various things.”

“Tell me you didn’t mention that Mahal cursed partition.” Thorin nodded and Dís landed a punch on his shoulder, shaking her head.

“At least she had the good sense to refuse it. For fuck’s sake, Thorin, I’d have thought you of all people would…”

“Hey, I remember the teams you were on! Some of those guys could be disgusting.”

“And I won them over myself and sometimes they turned into good friends. At least good teammates. You have to give her that chance. She’s not a porcelain doll, she’s a person, just like you. And I know everyone else on the team is going to be respectful.”

“And I will treat her as such, sister mine. No more partitions.”

“Good. Eat your chili, you need to put on more muscle.” Dís pushed his bowl closer, and Thorin picked up his spoon to salute her.

“You got it, boss.” The rest of the lunch was spent on family, not business, though Thorin had never been sure of where that line had existed. Dís sent him home with two tupperware containers of chili and a promise to come back the next day to clean out the little room and kitchenette where he had lived when they had first moved to the Blue Mountains. It was small, but had a big window looking over the yard, and a private entrance. Once the season started, Bilbo would barely get to see it. That reminded him he needed to check in on how the bus repairs were going, and set off into town, hands shoved in his pockets and looking forward, for the first time in years, to the coming summer.

 

Three days later, Thorin looked around the little unit with something approaching pride. It had been cleaned, repainted, and otherwise scoured to pretend it hadn’t been doubling as a storage unit for ten years. The door was a hunter green, matching the sills outside, to distinguish it from the rest of the house, and Dís had planted some kind of blue flowers on either side of the herringboned brick path. Inside, the kitchenette was part of the living room, stocked with the basics, but Thorin thought Bilbo would eat in the main house for most meals.

The bedroom was almost filled with an oversized bed bedecked in fresh linens, but the window looked out over the backyard which offset the oppressive white walls. The bathroom was tiny, but the shower had good water pressure and reeked of disinfectant, and Thorin decided that Kíli had done well, despite his complaints about having to breath in chemicals.

Thorin had liked living here when he was young, and hoped Bilbo would as well as he tested the keys in the new lock that led into the living room of the larger house. Only Bilbo would have a copy, and satisfied everything was finished, Thorin went to the kitchen and blinked. “Bilbo?”

“Hey, cap.” She glanced up from her tea, biting at her lower lip, but Dís answered the unspoken question as Thorin hovered in the doorway.

“I invited her over, since it seemed ridiculous we hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. And she’s very curious about the state of the unit.”

“It looks clean, at least.” Ambushed, Thorin followed the two women in silence after his sister gave him a glare.

“Better look clean after I gave you three an extra day. Now, Belladonna, let me give you the tour.” Dís went over the unit in detail, making sure the young goaltender could ask every question she needed to, before leading her out into the backyard. Bilbo clasped her hands over her mouth and staggered into Dís, who caught her with one arm.

“How did you know?”

“Careful!” Dís got her arm underneath Bilbo’s, and held the younger woman close as Thorin hovered, unsure of what had transpired. “Know what?”

“The flowers. My mother’s favorite.” Bilbo buried her face in Dís’ shoulder, trembling, but she recovered in moments and righted herself, wiping at her cheeks. “I would love to stay here. Thank you. How much would rent be?”

“Billet is covered by the league, don’t you worry.” Dís glanced over her shoulder at Thorin and waved her free hand. He retreated into the living room and found Kíli stick handling in front of the television with a tennis ball as he watched the news.

“Looks like you’re going to have a roommate after all.”

“Beauty!” Kíli stopped the ball with the toe of his stick and turned to grin at his uncle. “Where’s mum?”

“Out in the yard with Bilbo. Think they need some privacy, lad!” Thorin collard his nephew before he could go charging into the kitchen and massaged his shoulder as discreetly as he could as Kíli sank into the couch. When had he gotten so strong? “Be nice to her.”

“Duh.” Kíli went back to moving the tennis ball across the carpet, not even glancing up when Fíli clattered down the steps, bare chested and still wet from the shower.

“Go put a shirt on, Fíli, Bilbo’s over right now.” Fíli froze at the bottom of the stair, but Bilbo and Dís were already walking back from the yard.

“Oh, son, really?” Dís rolled her eyes but Bilbo didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Hey, Fíli, Kíli, looks like you’re stuck with me for now.”

“Oh, yeah? Nice.” Fíli put his hands on his hips and grinned, ignoring his mother and uncle’s disapproval. Bilbo seemed unmoved by Fíli’s display. “You can be our workout buddy, right Kee?”

“Totally.” Kíli bounced the tennis ball at Bilbo, who caught it without blinking.

“Sounds good.” Still holding the ball, Bilbo turned back to Dís. “If you need me to sign a lease or anything, I’m going to go pack up my stuff but I’ll be back by dinner.”

“Boys, go help her. No, I insist, a car and three sets of hands will make it faster. Shoo.” The young players were gone in minutes, after Dís shoved Fíli up the stairs to get a shirt, and she grinned as she sat down on the couch. “Sweet girl. Trying not to be intimidated by all of this, and doing well, but it’s good she’s here now so she can get settled in before the season starts. Are you two getting along?”

“No more arguments but we’re not really talking either. She works hard, on and off the ice, but she’s quiet in the locker room.”

“Give her a month or so. I like her. I think she’ll be a leader in her own way.” Dís grabbed Kíli’s stick and bounced a tennis ball at Thorin’s head, laughing as he dodged it and attempted to tackle her to the floor. Dís shrieked and clamped her thighs around his waist, flipping him over and getting him into a headlock. “Uncle! Say it!” Thorin grunted, trying to reverse her lock, but Dís pulled his hair and Thorin yelped.

“Uncle! Mahal’s beard, Dís, uncle!”

“Damn, should have recorded that one.” Dís let his head fall and stood, dusting off her hands as he groaned. “You’re still as bad at wrestling as you ever were.”

“Yeah, yeah. I think you ripped some of my hair out.” Thorin sat up, groaning, and leaned against the couch, staring up at his triumphant sister. “You’re mean.”

“You’re a whiner. Get up.” Dís nudged him in the ribs with her toe and Thorin grabbed her ankle, making her overbalance and fall on top of him. Laughing, he took the slap on his shoulder as they both sat up groaning and held up his hands.

“We’re both getting too old for this.”

“Speak for yourself. Cheater.” She glared at him, but a smile broke through her annoyance and Dís helped Thorin stand. “Go on, get going. I know you’re busy. I’ll see you in a few days at the skills clinic, eh?”

“As long as you promise not to trip me.” Thorin hugged her at the door and waved goodbye as the Jeep skidded into the driveway, Fíli at the wheel and the back filled with a few boxes and an impressive bookcase. Kíli and Bilbo were squashed into the front passenger seat, and the goaltender was pale, clinging to the dashboard, eyes clenched shut. Thorin hesitated, but the three young ones were focused on unloading the car and he left without saying goodbye, hoping he had done the right thing by bringing the stranger into the heart of his family.

 

The first skills clinic had arrived, and the Axes were in the locker room, changing into their team jackets and pants, the crisp royal blue fabric fresh from the cleaners. Each had their number stitched over their name on the left breast in crisp white thread, over the crossed axes of their logo. Bilbo had borrowed an old pair of Dís’ shin guards, and the two women sat next to each other as they laced up their skates. Thorin glanced over the list of drills he and the coordinator had devised, and back up as Gimli, cheeks covered in soft red down, tripped over his father’s stick. Everyone laughed, but Kíli helped the younger man to his skates and Gimli didn’t take offense. He had sprouted near six inches in the past few months, and by every indication was going to be bigger than his father in a few years. “Thanks, Kíli.”

“No problem, Gin.” Rolling his eyes at the old nickname, Gimli glanced over at Bilbo. She straightened up from her laces as she shot the lad a smile, and Gimli turned pink before turning and leaving the locker room. Bilbo looked confused, glancing at Dís who shook her head and whispered something that cleared the younger woman’s expression into wry amusement. Thorin stood and went to go sit with his sister, handing her the list of drills.

“There are three goalies signed up right now. You’ll have thirty minutes with them while we do some skating and passing. You can have a few shooters too.”

“Cool, I love doing this with kids. We’d do it for the girls teams in the Shire when we could, and we ran some camps during the summer. I have some fun drills for them.”

“Nicely done.” Dís murmured and Bilbo turned pink, looking down at her battered gloves. It was strange, seeing his goaltender wearing an out player’s equipment, but the name Belladonna was stitched into one of the cuffs and Thorin had a feeling the gloves had once belonged to Bilbo’s mother and didn’t dare mention they had a nicer pair if she wanted.

“Thanks. And thanks again for the equipment loan. I’ll get my own gear soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, they were only gathering dust in the garage, and they don’t fit me anymore.” Dís stood, patting Bilbo’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get the nets set up.” Bilbo followed, and Thorin caught the clipboard his sister frisbeed at his head with one hand. It was good to see they were getting along. From what Fíli had said, Bilbo cooked dinner for them all every night, and sometimes joined them for their early morning runs, but kept to her little apartment most of the time that she wasn’t at the rink. Thorin knew she had to be homesick for a home that was no longer hers, and realized Bilbo had more in common with him than he had realized. He zipped his jacket up, tied his hair back and tried to remember to smile as he looped a whistle around his neck.

Half the kids were milling around the ice, the stands filling with parents and siblings too young to join them. More and more little hockey players streamed onto the ice, until all forty of them were circling around the arena. Thorin gave them a few more minutes, keeping an eye on the clock, and blew his whistle when the time ticked over to ten. Everyone fell on their knees around the center circle, stretching, while the Axes joined Thorin. He welcome everyone and thanked the parents for giving up their Saturday morning to be at the rink, tapping his stick on the ice as the kids joined in, giggling.

“We’re going to be doing some assessment this first ice time, see what skills you all need to improve. And we’re going to have some fun, at the end, but the more work you put in now the better your next season’s going to be. Goalies, we have some time set aside for you, with a college champion, Belladonna Baggins.”

“Hey everyone.” Bilbo waved. “Call me Bilbo, and we’ll have some fun today!” Her jovial tone had more of the campers smiling than his entire speech. Thorin decided she could do this next time as he glanced at his clipboard. At least all the parents had read the instruction sheet, and had taped their child’s name to their helmet so he didn’t have to try and remember everyone’s jersey and equipment combination.

“Right, Fíli’s going to get you all started with some skating drills. We’ll get the pucks out soon, don’t worry.” Everyone stood and followed Fíli around the rink, mimicking his movements as the rest of the Axes got ready for the first drill. Once they were ready, Thorin joined in with the laps, correcting skate placement with a few of the kids and telling others they were doing well, when movement at one end of the rink made him turn his head as he slowed down in the corner to stay even with the young skaters gathered around him. A young woman wearing glasses, her dark hair contrasting her light jacket, was writing in a notebook as she listened to an older man holding a camera. Thorin nodded to Sigrid, reminding himself to speak to her after the camp was over for the day, and turned his attention back to the kids. After ten minutes, he caught Fíli’s eye and his nephew nodded before blowing his whistle and gathering everyone in front of the bench. Thorin spat on the ice before remembering his audience, but it was too late to do anything but smile.

“You guys ready?” A chorus of cheers greeted his words. Mahal, but it was good to see the eagerness in front of him, everyone paying attention, no ego invested yet. His smile turned genuine and he forgot about everyone not on the ice. “Great. Who wants to start warming up their hands?” More cheering and sticks tapping on the ice started, cut short when Thorin held up his glove for silence.

“We’re going to partner you guys up. Half by me, other half with Dwalin over there. We’re just going to start with some passing. Remember, hockey is a team sport. Passing is the foundation of everything. For goalies too, right Bilbo?”

“Absolutely. Goalies, you come with me, and I’ll show you some tricks. Maybe you’ll get an assist today.” The trio of little goaltenders, two boys and a girl, none higher than her waist, were on their skates and at her side before she made them rejoin the rest of the group, patting them on their helmets. Once the air was filled with shouts and the echoes of picks bouncing off of sticks and the boards, Thorin glided over to the triangle Bilbo had set up, watching as she showed the two boys and girl how to grip the big paddle of their stick in their catching glove, blocker hand up on the knob for stability. “Nice job, everyone. A goaltender who can pass well can make a good career.” Bilbo rolled her eyes, but smiled at the children, encouraging them as Thorin checked in with the others, keeping an eye on the clock. When the drill had been going on for ten minutes, he blew his whistle and everyone gathered back at the boards to listen to Fíli, who held a dry erase marker in one hand and a small board with the hockey rink diagramed on it in the other.

“We’re going to switch to a breakout drill. Who wants to tell me what a breakout is?” A forest of little hockey gloves sprang into the air, and Fíli pointed his stick towards a blue helmet. “Yeah, Onar, go ahead.”

“It’s when you take the puck from your end and go score!” Everyone laughed as Fíli glanced over at Thorin for help, but he was hiding his smile behind his glove and Fíli shrugged.

“Close enough! You might want to try getting set up on your forecheck first, though, right? Let your teammates come with you so you can try and get a goal together?”

“If they can keep up with me.” Thorin heard Bilbo giggling and she skated away, pretending to check on the multitude of water bottles further down the bench in their carriers.

“I can’t wait to see this.” Fíli grinned, and diagramed the simple drill, which would use the Axes to start the passing to give everyone an equal chance to get a shot on the net. Bilbo called the goalies over and herded them to the at the far end to wait. Once she was working in the corner with the two not in net, guiding them through some movement drills, Thorin blew his whistle and Dís made the first pass, hitting the stick of the first skater and following him up the ice, letting him pass to her before they entered the zone and the little player shot wide of the net. Fortunate, because the goalie overbalanced and fell to the ice. Bilbo glided over as Thorin blew the whistle again, tapping the young man on his pads, but made him get up himself before the next shot came.

“Keep your stick on the ice! Good job.” The drill went on, every player getting three shots on net as Bilbo kept the goaltenders rotating, cheering when they made a save and showing them how to stop goals they let in when they left the net to join her in the corner. Thorin was impressed. She was a good coach, understanding the level each player was at and tailoring her advice while pushing them.

After letting every player cycle through the drill four times, Dís switched to a backchecking drill next, to work on backwards skating and instill the idea that working together on defense was just as important as trying to score, and after that the goaltenders got their private time with Bilbo at one end, with Kíli, Gimli and Dís as shooters while the rest of the kids worked at the other end, working on skating and stickhandling. To reward them all for their hard work, Thorin announced a scrimmage at the end, dividing the little players into two teams while Bilbo talked to her goaltenders about switching nets every ten minutes to give them all equal time.

The game disintegrated into a swarm of little hockey players all trying to get possession of the puck, but Thorin saw some of the kids trying the new skills they had learned today and looked forward to the next ice time to help those lessons stick. At the end, when Radagast opened the garage doors to drive the Zamboni up to the gates in the boards, all the kids groaned and begged for more time as the Axes thanked them all for coming and promised to meet them all out in the lobby for pictures and autographs. That sent most of them scrambling for the public locker rooms and their parents, while the team went back to their own space to change, all of them laughing and talking as they took off their skates, many of them setting their skates by the door to be sharpened, and putting on their street clothes.

The lobby was in chaos when Thorin arrived last, tiny hockey players running around dragging their parents to take pictures with everyone, even Gimli, red faced and smiling at the attention. Bilbo was seated at one of the tables in the corner, speaking to several of the young girls and their parents. He could hear her talking about college hockey as he made his way to Sigrid, who was wedged into another corner of the big room to avoid being knocked over. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem, always a pleasure to write about community outreach. Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything.”

“I feel bad interrupting, but I’d like to talk to the goalie coach too.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll have her all to themselves next week.” Thorin went to go ask Bilbo to join them, Sigrid trailing in his wake. The little girls stared up at him as he bent over to talk to Bilbo, and he tried to keep his voice gentle. “Sorry to interrupt, but Sigrid wanted to ask a few questions before she had to go.”

“Oh, of course. Girls, I’ll see you next ice time, and work on your hands!” Bilbo stood, brushing by Thorin to shake Sigrid’s hand.

“Hi there, I’m Bilbo.”

“Is your name really Bilbo?” Sigrid’s northern accent, contrasted against Bilbo’s softer voice, was a sharp reminder of Erebor, and Thorin had to turn away and pretend to check the laces of his trainer before rejoining the two young women.

“No, it’s a nickname from when I was a kid. My name’s the same as my mom, and to keep from confusing dad, they used what I used to call myself before I could say Belladonna. Bit of mouthful for a toddler.” Bilbo laughed, but there was a trace of pain in her eyes that Thorin recognized. “And you must be the sportswriter Dís was telling me about?”

“Sort of. I’m out here on a work immersion internship. I go to Lake Town Community really. The sports section is the grunt work at the paper here, but I like hockey so I volunteered for this beat. I’ll get to go on some of the roads trips so I’m excited about that.”

“Get a good travel pillow.” Bilbo grinned at the younger woman and Sigrid nodded, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

“Good advice. Thanks, Bilbo. See you around.”

“Yeah.” Sigrid shared in the smile with the taller woman before turning to Thorin. “So, it’s a nice surprise for the Axes to bring in a goaltender for the kids while you look for a new one. How’s that search going?”

“We’ll announce it at the draft so we don’t compromise negotiations right now.” Thorin didn’t look at Bilbo. “I promise you’ll get an interview with them day after.”

“That’s all I can ask for, since they won’t let me go to Rohan this year to get live coverage.” Sigrid took a few more notes, most about the clinic for older players next week to try and drum up more interest, and left. Not before she stopped to talk to Fíli, and Thorin watched his nephew stumble over his words, nudging Dwalin as the two older players watched their fellow captain.

“Didn’t any of us tell him how to talk to a reporter?”

“Not a reporter who smiles like that at him.” Dwalin guffawed, loud enough to attract Fíli’s attention. He left Sigrid after a few more moments and glared at his uncle before heading to the locker room.

“Ah, remember what we were like at that age. I seem to recall another reporter, what was his name? He wrote for the _Gondor Horn_.”

“Shut up.” Dwalin’s smile turned inward for a moment, but the big wing shook off his nostalgia. “I’ll apologize to Fíli. Besides, she’s going to be leaving us, probably before the end of the season, and he’ll break his heart.”

“Good, it’s about time it happened to him.” Thorin glanced around the lobby, but most of the kids and parents were gone, and so were his teammates. Gandalf materialized out of the corner, gray coat still in place despite the mild May weather.

“Well done, Thorin. Sigrid looked pleased.”

“I’m always glad to work with the kids, you know that, publicity be damned.” Dwalin left, hearing the beginning strains of an old argument, and without an audience neither man said anything as they walked back towards the ice sheet, watching Radagast using a large squeegee on the end of a stick to spread some of the water out on the ice, making sure the layer would dry thin and keep the ice surface fast. Standing behind the away net, the two men stayed silent until Gandalf turned and leaned against the boards.

“It seems that training is going well. You’ve managed to reignite the fire your teammates will need this upcoming season. It was good to see them smiling today. I’ve received our schedule. We’re going to be on the road more than any other team.”

“What?” Thorin growled. Winning on the road was always more difficult, and the Axes did not need any more complications to an already difficult task. “Why? Did they give a reason? We didn’t finish in last place, even if it was a close run thing.”

“I don’t know why, I lodged a protest and Saruman said there was nothing they could do.” Thorin wondered how hard Gandalf had tried to convince his old friend, but held his tongue. Their relationship had never been a good one, even if Thorin respected the older man for his knowledge, and he couldn’t risk losing Gandalf now. “It just means we’re going to have to try harder. I believe you can win this season, Thorin. I will do what I can to turn some of the away weekends into splits. I have two months before the schedule is published.”

“Anything you can do. You don’t think someone is trying to sabotage us, do you?”

“I never take anything for granted. Keep working hard until the draft, Thorin. I will be away for a time, but we need to be ready for the increased scrutiny signing Bilbo will bring.” His coach left and Thorin breathed in the cold air of the ice sheet, lost in thought. The season hadn’t even begun and already there were complications and backroom dealings. He had hoped for a brief respite before leaping back into the fray, but now he knew the on ice battles would only be half of the fight for his home. Slamming his fist into the glass, Thorin walked away from the rink. He could not afford to falter now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am basing Bilbo’s physique on most female hockey players and Olympic lifters that I know, including myself. They’re all incredibly strong, but most aren’t cut, since they don’t starve their body fat. Many are dismissed until they casually squat four hundred pounds next to the guy curling with the fifteen pound barbells who just made fun of them for being big. Plus, this way Bilbo maintains a little bit of that hobbit body type that we all know and love while still being an elite athlete. If you’re curious, check out Hilary Knight’s photoshoot for ESPN's Body Issue. Now that’s a hockey player.


	4. A Draft to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day has arrived. Soon the world’s attention will be focused on the Axes and their new goaltender, but is she up to the challenge? And behind the scenes, not everyone is supportive of Thorin’s choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't a side of sports a lot of people think about, but drafts and back room meetings felt like the right way to explore some of the world before we dive into games.

The biggest hotel in Edoras, across the street from the golden Capitol building of Meduseld, had been overrun by hockey fever. The Rhovanion Hockey League draft was the main event, but the minor leagues had a fair share of media attention, and Bilbo snuck in the service entrance and took the elevator up to the suite Gandalf had booked. Thorin and Dís were downstairs, being ignored by several old friends and looked at with pity by some of the owners. Dís snapped her badge in half and had to go get another one while Thorin waited, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes as he pretended to be scanning the crowds. “Oakenshield, is that you?” He turned and saw a familiar and unwelcome face. Thranduil Lasgalen. Of course. Who else could imbue that old nickname with such scorn?

“Last I checked, Thranduil. I hear you’ve found some good prospects this year.”

“We have, and I look forward to my farm team playing you. Making another run for the Show, eh? Should I be looking forward to a surprise signing?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow, like everyone else.” Thorin hated looking up at anyone and forced his smile back into place as he shook Thranduil’s hand. “And it will be good to see the Archers this year.”

“Quite.” They bared their teeth a final time and Thranduil disappeared into the crowd. Watching him go, Thorin was reminded of the cold but respectful relationship his grandfather had once enjoyed with the powerful man, and cursed all Lasgalen for not using an ounce of that influence or power to help the Thráinsons in their hour of need. If he remembered correctly, Legolas was on the Archer’s EHL team this year, rehabilitating an injury. He and Legolas had never been teammates, but they had played with each other often enough at development camps. Legolas was feared for his hands, and had broken goaltenders sniping at impossible angles with ease. Damn it all. Imagining what he might do to Bilbo, Thorin turned to see what was taking Dís so long and nearly ran her over as she appeared at his elbow.

“Let’s get these stupid bags to the room so I can have a moment before my first meeting. So far everyone has been respecting my request that I not reveal our contract but I’m going to break Ecthelion’s nose if he asks one more time today.” Keeping well back from his sister’s rage, Thorin pushed his way through to the elevators and let out a breath when the doors slid closed, cutting off the noise in an instant.

“Thranduil made a point to stop by. I forgot his son moved down to the Archers this year.”

“Fuck.” Dís let her head slam against the wall, closing her eyes. “Meaning he’s going to be taking a personal interest in us instead of loftily condescending as usual. Fuckity fuck.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“Don’t I?” They reached their floor and saw Gandalf stepping into the stairwell, talking on his phone. Bilbo was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth, but she broke into a smile when she saw them. Thorin realized she wasn’t even looking at him as she hugged Dís, and tried to place what was different. Her eyes were almost on level with his sister’s and the perspective clicked into place.

“Did you grow?”

“I told you it would work.” Dís laughed. “I told her to get the tallest platforms she could wear so the pictures would look better.”

“Oh.” Thorin blinked. Trust Dís to have every angle covered. Before he could crack a goalie joke, Bilbo wobbled, holding onto the arm of the couch as she sat. Her smile met Thorin’s and he held his tongue as she laughed, shaking her head at herself.

“I still might fall if I’m not careful. So? What’s it like on the floor?”

“Madhouse. Day one always is. Hope you don’t mind hiding out. No one cares about the EHL today.” Dís was rifling through folders, tsking her tongue and nodding.  

“Nah, I brought some books and stuff.”

“And I need to get to the first owner’s meeting. You two have fun.” Thorin tried to object, but Dís closed her briefcase and was gone, leaving awkward silence in her wake. Thorin looked at Bilbo, unsure of what to say, but she spared him.

“Need help with your bags?” She pulled off the black boots that had been hidden under her pants, shaking her head. “These are ridiculous. But Dís said it would surprise people.” She helped Thorin wheel and carry the bags into the twin room he and Dís were sharing, and they both settled into the main room, Bilbo with a heavy book and Thorin flipping through channels until he found the draft coverage. Until the Dragons were on the screen, announcing the draft of another highly skilled, hulking player who scowled at the cameras. Smaug wasn’t there. He never left Erebor, his legendary paranoia keeping him from prying eyes and vengeful business rivals. Thorin turned off the set and looked up into Bilbo’s sympathetic eyes.

“I’m going to go for a walk.” She opened her mouth, but Thorin was already gone. He spent the rest of the day outside, walking through winding streets, underneath the noses of marble horses and notable Rohirrim. He ended up in a park, sitting at Eorl’s feet and watching the people until his phone buzzed. He didn’t even need to see who the sender was to recognize Dís’ tone.

_Get your arse back here. Gandalf has news._

 

“And that’s all I know. But it’s encouraging. Smaug is desperate if he’s trying to reach out for his old contacts. They haven’t come out of hiding in decades. He might be more vulnerable than we thought.” Gandalf beamed, but Thorin wasn’t convinced. He had been born after the worst of the open violence, but he knew the facts. That Smaug had been part of such happenings was not known, but there were more rumors than fact swirling around the powerful man who had come out of nowhere to challenge Thrór. Some said the mob had given him the power and money, others whispered fouler means. Glaurung. Ancalagon. Scatha. Names that still brought fear and horror to those old enough to remember the indiscriminate killings over control of several cities, Gondor taking the brunt but by no means all of the gang violence of times past. How Gandalf had found confirmation of Smaug’s involvement with the long dead killers defied all logic, but Thorin could not doubt his coach. Realizing everyone was waiting for a response, Thorin cleared his throat.

“I hope you’re right. I’d hate to go against him and find out he’s got deeper pockets.”

“The time is right. Tomorrow, we make our first move towards taking back Erebor and getting back into the Show. Have you been doing interview prep?” Gandalf turned to Bilbo, who waved a paper pad in the air.

“With Balin for the past two weeks. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then I suggest we order some food and get to bed.” There wasn’t much that was healthy on the menu, but Gandalf put an end to the debate by buying steak for everyone, and Bilbo made a kettle of tea, though Thorin took water instead. No one spoke more than a sentence or two, all of them lost in their thoughts and Thorin retired as soon as it was polite, and woke only when Dís threw her pillow from across the room with her alarm blaring in his ears.

“I’m taking the shower first.” He waited until the loud music was off and peeked out from his nest of pillows, glaring at an unrepentant sister.

“Leave the rest of us some hot water.” He looked at the bedside clock and moaned. “Five? Do you hate me?”

“If we don’t need every last minute I’ll buy you dinner.” The preparations stretched long into the morning, everyone putting on makeup, though Thorin grumbled about it he let Dís dab on the foundation, but drew the line at plucking his eyebrows, batting away the threatening tweezers.

“I’ll groom them but I am not going to pluck a single hair.” Unexpected reinforcement arrived from Bilbo, who was perched on a chair nearby, putting the final touches on her lips.

“It’s too late anyway. Everyone knows what Thorin looks like. Changing him now wouldn’t send the right message.” Dís relented, and finished her preparations, braiding her hair into a long queue and brushing a final coating of powder over her face.

“At least we’ll all look good on camera. If we do this right, this footage is going to be looping for a few weeks. Keep an eye out for each other and don’t say no to any reporter, no matter who they’re representing.”

“Yes sir.” Dís didn’t even take her eyes off her reflection to bat Thorin’s shoulder.

“Let’s go. We’re on stage in an hour.”

 

Their arrival created a small stir backstage, but Bilbo didn’t enter with them and stood against the far wall, her face serene as she was ignored. A voice cut through the muted conversations, hailing the siblings. “Thorin! Thought you didn’t have any picks.” They turned to see another familiar face, but Thorin smiled. Thengol was still a friend, even if they hadn’t spoken in years.

“Good to see you, Thengol. We don’t but we signed an unrestricted free agent so we still get our time.”

“Excellent. Look forward to seeing who. Goalie?”

“Not a difficult guess.” Dís kissed the older man’s cheek, bending down to hug him. “How have you been?” The old man sighed, his shoulders dropping, and Thorin’s heart went out to Thengol as he told them of the tragedies that had beset his family.

“It’s been a difficult time. My son in law was killed in a car accident last year.” Dís and Thorin offered their condolences and their old friend held their hands. “I remember when your father died how strong you were for each other. My son’s been holding us all together. I think I’ll be passing my responsibilities on to him soon. My grandchildren all want to play in the Show someday and I want to be there for them. And I want them to being playing against the Axes.”

“We’re doing our best, I promise.” Dís hugged Thengol as the producer called for the Axes and left him her private phone number, while Thorin checked that the jersey in his arms was wrapped tight so no one could see the name or number. Baggins. 22. Once again, he wondered what had possessed Bilbo’s mother to choose a number so close to his. He had been 21 since his mite days, but once Bilbo had said it had been her mother’s, he had shut his mouth. He just hoped everyone else would too.

Saruman was at the podium, facing the bright lights and photographers as his long hands tapped the piece of paper in front of him. No teleprompters for the old fashioned commissioner. The stage manager waited, hand up to her earpiece, and then nodded, pointing the path they needed to take. Walking out onto the stage brought back sharp memories, but the faces were unfamiliar and Dís shook Saruman’s hand before stepping up to the bank of microphones, thanking the league for their time before taking a deep breath. “I’m pleased to announce that the Blue Mountain Axes have contracted Belladonna Baggins of the Tuckborough Badgers to be our goaltender this next season.” Dís allowed her words to fill the hotel’s ballroom, and held out her arm, pointing offstage and welcoming Bilbo. The young goaltender stepped out from behind the temporary wall covered in sponsors and logos, and her smile took in the entire room, silencing everyone as the import of the announcement became apparent.

Keeping his smile in place as Bilbo walked towards the podium, Thorin unfurled the jersey and held it up, allowing the entire room to see her last name in white letters on the blue background. The silence was dragging on as Gandalf hugged his protégée, stepping back with a broad grin while she turned to face the room as surprised murmurs started to turn into cheers. In the tall platforms hidden by her slacks, Bilbo looked intimidating, but as she tugged the large jersey over her head she wobbled for a moment. Thorin slid his hand underneath her elbow, grateful Gandalf’s body hid their actions, and disaster was averted. Bilbo shot Thorin a rueful smile as she tugged at her hem and tossed her hair out of her face before stepping forward again.

The obvious surprise that filled the entire audience told Thorin their secret had been kept, and he knew what the headline was going to be as Saruman stepped forward to take the last picture, his face blank, and the Axes left the stage for the press corral. Bilbo was clinging to Gandalf’s arm, listening to something he was whispering in her ear, nodding and face serious. Dís was beaming, her strong arms reaching out to hug Thorin close. “We did it.”

“Good job, Dís.” Thorin crushed her, sharing in her good mood and deciding not to borrow trouble for now. The Axes were back in the news cycle, and he was already making plans to keep them there. He had told the ticket office to be ready for today, and even as he got ready to follow the rest of his group into the next room, his phone buzzed with a text from Glóin.

_Already sold out opening night!_

He didn’t have a chance to tell Dís before a camera and microphone was shoved into his face. “Thorin, we’re from the RHL Network, wanted to ask a few questions!”

“Always happy to talk to you.” Shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to keep his shoulders relaxed, he couldn’t help leaning down when the short reporter waited for her cameraman even though he knew it would make him look ridiculous.

“This isn’t live, don’t worry. Probably be on air when they need some filler.”

“No worries.” The cameraman gave them a thumbs up and the red light over his lens flickered on moments later.

“I’m here with captain and part owner of the Blue Mountain Axes Thorin Thráinson, who just announced they’ve acquired a new goaltender for this upcoming season. What brought Belladonna Baggins, formerly of the University of Tuckborough, to the forefront?”

“She’s a four time champion with the Badgers, and a two time world champion as well. We believe in nurturing new talent even while we look towards a winning season, and we thought she demonstrated the necessary skills to mesh with our team.” Thorin thanked Balin for the talking points he would be hitting for the next few hours. He wasn’t going to touch the gender question with his sister in the same room, just voice his support and send reporters to Dís for the headline.

“Any thoughts on what this means for women’s hockey as a whole?”

“I was looking for the best, and didn’t want to limit myself with preconceptions.” He waited a beat, long enough for a cut, and continued. “Dís would give you a better quote than me on this.”

“She’s next on my list, then. Thanks, Thorin.”

“Anytime.” He went through four more similar interviews, and had to step aside to move his neck back and forth, the tension of smiling for strangers spidering a headache up from his jaw to his temples. He heard cheering and Bilbo stepped out onto the floor from the photographer’s room, where her official rookie portrait had already been snapped, and was probably already on several websites by the time her feet hit the ballroom floor. She was mobbed by reporters and players alike, shaking hands and posing for camera phones. Thorin recognized two other college goaltenders and realized she had probably grown up alongside many of them, seeing them at regional evaluation camps and tournaments through the years.

Dís materialized, hugging the younger woman again, and leading Bilbo over to an interview backdrop while whispering something in her ear. Bilbo was miked, more powder brushed across her forehead as she listened to a producer, nodding and not saying a word. Thorin could see she was suppressing a grin, trying to appear collected, but her cheeks were flushed and she was bouncing on her toes. A modicum of order was restored before the cameras were swung into position, and Thorin looked around, watching how everyone focused their attention. This was her first interview, and the impression Bilbo made on the world and the larger audience was going to shape hockey news for a week. Thorin recognized the sportscaster, Anborn, who had a popular show with the GBC.

Thorin was too far away to hear her as the reporter spoke to the camera with a smirk and then turned to the young woman at his side, and her answering smile lit up her face as she started to speak. But his next question dimmed her excitement, and even from across the room Thorin could read her annoyance as she gave a short answer. Worried, Thorin eased closer, out of her direct eye line as Anborn asked another question. “So, Belladonna, how has it been training with a bunch of men?”

“No different than training with other athletes. We’re all there to win and we work hard to support each other.” Her voice was neutral, but the twitch of her lips showed what she thought of the question and the next.

“So no special treatment?”

“None. Having Dís Thráinson as my mentor has taught me a lot about the transition, but I’m not singled out in any way. I’m just another rookie.”

“Yeah, but surely the dynamic is different. Do you try and bring a feminine touch to the bus, make everyone brownies?” Bilbo’s mouth dropped open, and Thorin took a step closer, but then her smile was back and her eyebrow rose. Her voice turned sweet, but the ice underneath was hard as steel.

“I don’t get it. Why would I make brownies?” The man floundered, his practiced smile cracking.

“I just meant you...”

“I mean, do you think hockey players eat that much sugar during training? I could go over our nutrition plans with you. They’re very healthy. The EHL has partnered with the RHL and other leagues to promote healthy eating targeted at kids. The foundation of a strong athlete is an understanding of how to feed your body.” Thorin heard laughter, some muffled, some not, rising from many of the others milling around the floor. None of it was directed at Bilbo. “You can find out more at ‘hockey and you dot com’. Thanks for talking to me, Anborn!” She grinned at the camera and waited for the light to go off before turning and walking away without a word, unclipping the battery pack and plucking her mike off her jersey and handing them to the flustered PA hovering over her shoulder. A few cameras flashed in her direction, but Bilbo didn’t stop until Thorin intercepted her.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” She let out a long breath and glanced over her shoulder. “Dís gave me a few ideas for that question. I wasn’t expecting it to be so blunt.”

“He’s an asshole, and you did great. I don’t think you need to talk to anyone else if you don’t want to. That interview is going to be looping for hours.” He hoped she would turn him down, stay and ride the media attention for the team, but Bilbo’s face relaxed.

“Thanks.” She nodded. “I think I’ll go hide out in the room for a bit. I’ve got my phone if you need me.”

“Sure.” Thorin watched her go, disappointed she had given up, but she was young and had been ambushed on camera, probably for the first time. Thorin made his way over to Anborn, who was arguing with a woman in a sharp suit and a press tag that identified her as a producer.

“Thorin, come with me.” Dís grabbed his elbow and diverted him back towards the doors. “Trust me, big brother, no one wants another interview with anyone from our team. Bilbo did perfectly. She handled herself well, left without throwing a tantrum, and that sexist asshole is going to be making a public apology tomorrow if what I told his producer holds any weight. We’re going to be riding this cycle for a month.”

“Opening night sold out.”

“Are you kidding? Half our home games have sold out already. I told Glóin to get more servers for our website. He says the inbox for the front office is full and he and Balin are trying to keep up with the requests for interviews.” They stepped into the elevator and Thorin fished out his phone, checking his own inbox. Fifty new messages. One name at the top caught his eye.

“Well, he had time to email me. Wonder what he wants.” The subject was blank, which was unusual for the well written Balin, and there was only a link with the ominous caption of ‘read this right away!’ underneath the blue text. Four minutes later, Thorin’s heart was racing and he couldn’t hear anything over the roar of anger echoing in his brain. Dís opened the door to the suite, the main room empty. “What the hell?” Thorin finally managed to speak. “How the fuck did she get this already?”

“What?” Dís turned, curious, but Thorin had to take a breath before he could answer her.

“Sigrid got an interview with someone on the team and she posted it five minutes after our announcement. It’s got more information about Bilbo than I know.” Brother and sister stared at each other before Dís growled.

“Fíli.”

“He wouldn’t.” Thorin knew the lie even as he protested. His nephew's feelings for the reporter were too obvious, and no one else could have had so much inside information. Dís shook her head, her eyes full of disappointment.

“Then tell me why he’s been bringing home random books from Goldberry’s.”

“No.” Thorin groaned, sinking to the couch. “We taught him better than that.”

“I thought his sudden interest in history and gardening was farfetched, but he’s young.” Dís put her hands on her hips, pacing across the suite’s carpet and looking out the window at the hockey banners waving in the square. “Damn it.”

“I didn’t think Bilbo had been talking to them that much.”

“They work out together every morning. She’s probably dropped some facts about herself and Sigrid wormed them out of Fíli.” Surprised that Dís would blame a reporter for trying to find a story, Thorin shook his head.

“Hey, she’s doing her job, and it’s Fíli we should be talking to.”

“He’s not answering his phone.” Bilbo walked out into the middle of the argument, holding a tablet under one arm, already out of her jersey and boots. Both Dís and Thorin fell silent as she cleared her throat, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“That’s because he was talking to me.”

“And?” Dís turned, waiting.

“And it’s all true, and it’s a nice article. It’s already been reposted to a few newspapers’ blogs. I’m trending, did you know that? Thank Yavanna I made my profiles private yesterday. Glóin said I should start responding to people, but not to talk about the interview until he and Balin come up with a plan.” She sat on the couch, and Dís turned to Thorin with a wry grin.

“Okay then. I’d still like to talk to my son about this. He did betray your confidence.”

“Yeah, he did.” Bilbo tugged on her hair, mouth twisting. “But Sigrid figured out you guys were going to pick me, since I’m old enough to be a free agent, and you had sold all your picks. She ambushed Fíli and he confirmed it without meaning too. After that, he just tried to make us all look good in the article. She's got a good head for the business of hockey.”

“Aw, poor kid.” Dís was being sarcastic, but Bilbo nodded.

“Yeah. He’s nineteen years old and already he thinks the entire season depends on his line.” The older players stared at Bilbo as she looked between them. “He’s talented. Had he registered for the draft, he would have been picked today. Probably top ten.”

“You don’t know what we’ve been through, child.” Dís let out her breath as Bilbo flinched, but didn’t drop her eyes. “Yes, he would have been picked. I’ve had scouts from Gondor, Rohan and Lothlórien sniffing around my kids since they were peewees, and every school’s been after Fíli since he turned eighteen. But he decided to help out the Axes.”

“If Bilbo can see he’s hurting when we can’t, Dís, she had every right as his team mate to tell us.” Thorin put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “We’ll talk to him when we get home. It’s not a disaster. She’s right. It’s a good article, and it will improve our relationship with the _Post_ to give them the exclusive out of the gate.” They never knew what Dís was going to say as a loud knock filled the room and two tall men, wearing suits and sunglasses, stepped inside and looked at them all.

“The commissioner will see you now.”

 

“Are you trying to make this league look foolish?” From the head of the table in the small conference room, Saruman glared at them all at the conclusion of his long rant, imposing snarl in place, and gripped the back of his chair. Thorin glanced around the room. Bilbo still looked terrified, looking to Gandalf for help, but her coach was sitting in silence, staring at the wall with a blank face. After they had all been herded inside, Saruman had been berating all of them for holding back such a surprising announcement, saying the league had been caught off guard and wasn’t prepared for the increased media scrutiny from outside the friendly hockey world. Dís stood, moving like a predator, her own snarl matching the commissioner’s in ferocity.

“You said much the same twenty years ago, old man, and were proved wrong then. She’s a fine player. Just because she doesn’t have a dick doesn’t negate her skill.”

“Did I say it did?” Rearing back, Saruman blinked and Thorin winced. His sister did have a way with words. But an old man like Saruman wasn’t going to appreciate many of them. Dís didn’t falter.

“The stunt drafting of one of hockey’s dynastic daughters surely reflects the power of her father rather than her own merit or talent.” Dís quoted, eyes never leaving Saruman. “I will float that beauty of a quote to every reporter I talk to, and I’ve been invited to do the talk show circuit tomorrow. You’ll be under so much scrutiny your office won’t have time to do anything else. Hell, the way most people are reacting, you’ll start hearing calls for your resignation if I play it right. Or, I could let your sexist attitude remain in the past, and we can face the world with a united front. Times move on, Saruman. I didn't hear any complaints when Thranduil brought up the female captain on his farm team, and that was two years ago. Is it because you two still tee off together? Or because you never believed my father’s word against Smaug?”

Thorin could not find his breath as he watched his sister standing against the commissioner, and winning. She had never forgiven Saruman for his words. There was another quote, about Fíli and Kíli’s recent births before her selection, but Dís had done her best to suppress it until her sons were a little older. The first quote was inflammatory enough. The old man scowled, but said nothing as he sank back to his seat. Gandalf cleared his throat.

“We look forward to this next season with your full support, Saruman. I’m sure everyone will be impressed at how you embrace this new chapter for hockey.”

“Get out.” Saruman whispered, and Thorin knew the Axes had made another enemy as they left the conference room, but couldn’t stop his smile. Bilbo slumped against the wall, her face green, and Dís held out her arms, their previous disagreement pushed aside as they hugged.

“Chin up, Bilbo. He’s only the first. But we’ll face them together.”

“Together.” She echoed and pulled herself up from her slouch. “Let’s go get ready to kick some ass.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say I've never encountered coaches and players like Saruman, but that would be a lie.  
> Anyway, it's time to get back to the ice and away from all this back stabbing and politicking! Hooray!


	5. Of Camps and Compromises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin struggles with adapting to Bilbo's presence on and off the ice, while he deals with surprising complications to what was supposed to be an easy summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tygermama and everbright-mourning for getting me back into hockey headspace and keep working on updates for this story.

“Last week, the entire hockey world was surprised by the signing of a female goaltender. The Blue Mountain Axes of the EHL signed Belladonna Baggins to help them in their quest for the Húrin Cup, and more importantly, a move up to the RHL. We have Radagast Aiwendil here with us to shed some light on what this means for hockey as a whole. Good news, Radagast?” Anborn’s shoulders slumped as he sat next to the colorful old man, who was holding a hedgehog up to his ear and beaming. Once his name was said, he tucked the animal away in his breast pocket and the Blue Spruce Pub burst into applause.

“Well, of course it’s a good thing for hockey!” Radagast, his eye-searing brown and purple plaid jacket blinding the pub, clapped his hands together and stared at the camera with an earnest air that would have seemed mocking from anyone else. “Everyone is talking about hockey. When anyone is talented enough to make the jump to professional hockey it’s an achievement. Belladonna is only one of many women who’ve shown they are more than capable of making the same transition.” Radagast patted the hedgehog’s head and chuckled. “Sebastian knows what I mean, don’t you?”

Thorin put his head down, sniggering at Anborn’s expression and heard giggles from down the bar, where Bilbo, Ori and his nephews were sitting together. Sigrid, forgiven for her article, was with them after she had promised her presence was unofficial and been absorbed into the younger group with welcome. It was fortunate Dís was in Gondor with Radagast. She was still upset with Fíli and Sigrid both. Thorin caught Bilbo’s eye and raised his water in silent toast as Radagast answered another of Anborn’s scripted questions with typical enthusiasm.

“It’s tremendous to show the highest levels of our beloved sport will embrace talent regardless of gender now. I only hope more women and girls see that hockey is a possible career for them as well.”

“As do we all.” Knowing Dís was probably behind the camera gave Thorin another chuckle as the sportscaster shuffled his papers and gave the audience a wan smile. “Once again, I want to extend Belladonna my sincerest apologies for my inappropriate questions last week. I in no way meant to imply she was not an equal member of the Blue Mountain organization, and I wish her all the luck for her rookie season. Thank you for watching and goodnight.”

Another cheer filled the pub as Bombur appeared down the bar and plunked a shot glass down on the stained wood. “Normally I wouldn’t offer you a drink during training but you earned it this last week. It’s good to have you back.” Everyone greeted his pronouncement with a yell of agreement. The team and many of the fans had been in the pub the entire week, watching Bilbo and Dís both take interview after interview, together and apart, and Thorin could admit to himself that Bilbo had made up for her earlier retreat at the draft. She had carried the name of the Axes all over the continent with an easy smile and Thorin gave the absent Gandalf grudging acknowledgement for his foresight.

“Thank you Bombur.” Bilbo leaned over the bar and gave him a hug, wincing as he poured out a generous amount of top shelf whiskey. She held up the amber liquid to the crowd and threw her head back, entire face screwing tight as she slammed the shot glass back to the bar. “Oh! Oh hell!” She recovered, fanning at her flushed cheeks, as Fíli teased her. Sigrid touched his shoulder and Thorin looked away as his nephew subsided, looking down at the reporter with a gentle smile.

“Helpless, the lot of them.” Dwalin had elected for one beer and snorted as he drained the pint. “One can’t do a shot and the other is a fool.”

“Then it’s our job to show them the ways of the world.” That earned another snort from his friend, but Thorin knew Dwalin would take all the young players under his wing. Thorin’s pocket vibrated and he stopped his dig at his friend, knowing who was on the other end of the line. “Hang on, Dís is calling.” Thorin left the celebrations and stepped out into the pleasant night air, taking a deep breath to clear his head.

“So? How did it look?”

“Terrible. You couldn’t get him to wear a real suit?”

“Very funny.”

“It looked great. So did your interviews with Bilbo this last week. She’s glad to be back.”

“I will be too. Did you see we’re only playing Gondor and Rohan once?”

“I did. It’s a strange schedule.”

“Yeah. Anyway, we got ourselves a few more home games, and that’s all that matters.” Wondering what Dís and Gandalf had done, Thorin leaned against the bumper of his car and looked up at the dark mountains. “Two months. And I have another surprise.”

“Think of my heart, sis.”

“Preseason starts against the Hobbiton Millers.”

“Isn’t that Bilbo’s hometown?” Impressed, Thorin glanced up at the sky. His baby sister had become the master of the back room deal if she had managed to change the entire schedule of the league for some positive press. She deserved to have millions to play with, not the paltry excuse for a budget they had now.

“It is indeed. And we’re visiting. It’s going to be a great story.”

“If we win.”

“That’s up to you, brother. I’ll be home tomorrow. Tell the boys to get some sleep.”

“You too, sis.” His little sister laughed and promised she would before disconnecting and Thorin went back inside to see an interview with the GBC’s top news anchor with Bilbo and Dís was back on the tellie. The sound was down now so the rest of the bar could listen to their music, but the smile on Bilbo’s face as she watched herself stilled Thorin’s tongue. She said she hadn’t had a chance to see any of the coverage and he sat back down, trying to pay attention to what Dwalin was saying and catching half the words, grunting whenever his friend paused.

He couldn’t stop watching Bilbo until the interview ended and Leyda changed the set back to the sports channel as a rugby match started. By then, it was late enough most of the team made their farewells, knowing they were going to have a long ice session to get their goaltender back into their routine. As they made their exit, Thorin found himself walking next to Bilbo, who was wearing a light red jacket over a cream blouse and a full brown skirt. It showed off her legs, muscles coiling as she walked towards Fíli’s jeep. “Have a good night?”

“A great one.” She smiled up at the stars. “I love the nights here. Quiet and the sky is amazing. You can really admire the Silmaril.” She pointed at the brightest star in the eastern sky.

“You believe that old yarn?”

“Of course I do.” Thorin shifted, unsure how to ask forgiveness. His family had long followed Mahal and ignored the other gods of the land, but Bilbo swore in Yavanna’s name enough he had not thought her pious. “Even if it’s just an old tale, I always liked my father reading it to me at night.” Thorin nodded and Fíli called Bilbo’s name, waving from the driver’s seat. “See you tomorrow, Thorin.” She was gone and Thorin walked back home, his stomach in knots. He was disgusting. She was his teammate, and she faced enough difficulty without her captain trying to flirt with her. He hadn’t just been making conversation, as much as he wanted to lie to himself.

By the time he got home, the moon was cresting over the mountains and he let himself go collapse in bed, but sleep was elusive tonight. It had been a hard week, full of press and numerous calls from sponsors and fans alike. The hypocrisy of the sponsors was the worst. If Bilbo started playing well, they all wanted their logo on the Axes’ jerseys, but no one was willing to take a risk yet no matter how many clips he sent them of her various championships.

That he had his own doubts and having them cast to him by others was galling, but he had taken the biggest chance of everyone and was willing to live with the consequences. Not having Dís to share his thoughts with had been difficult. They had spent little time away from each other, especially once Fíli had been born, and even while Dís wasn’t on the road with them she was always at the rink to welcome them back and provide her brother with support.

But he had missed seeing Bilbo in the locker room just as much, and it troubled him that the little goaltender had managed to get inside his head after less than a month. He liked the energy she brought to the ice, the laughter to the gym and the focus in the locker room. He also liked the way her eyes flashed when she made a save, the mask she kept her face no matter how the play was going, and the curl of her lip when she smiled.

He turned to his side and punched his pillow, and found himself looking up at the Silmaril and wondering why Bilbo had looked so sad when she had pointed to it. She was guarded about anything beyond hockey, never speaking of her childhood or family, friends that weren’t teammates. He knew too well the sacrifices needed to make it to the elite level of play. Now he wanted to know what Bilbo had sacrificed. In the middle of his conflicting worries, Thorin fell asleep.

He woke with a headache, a sure sign he had been grinding his teeth and stared up at the ceiling wondering why his alarm was going off at this Mahal forsaken hour when he remembered they were going to start ice early to welcome Bilbo back. Groaning, he threw sweats and sandals on and found an old hoodie before eating a small breakfast and forgoing coffee to avoid a sour stomach on the ice. Walking through the silent streets, Thorin found his head clearing in the cool air and decided he couldn’t say anything to Bilbo. Avoiding the larger repercussions of what the press and the rest of the world would think if anyone found out they were in a relationship, there was the age gap and the cold fact she might not feel anything for him. He would not create a hostile environment for her, or pressure her at all. Even if Dís had all the responsibility, he was part owner of the team and technically Bilbo’s boss.

Against all of the facts and the logic of his decision, Thorin’s heart ached and he snapped at himself to focus as he approached the Fortress. His heart would have to obey his mind for now. No one else’s car was outside yet, but as he walked inside after unlocking the door, he thought he heard another door close farther inside the building. After a moment of debate, he went to the ice to investigate. Half the lights were on and the smell of hockey enveloped him in welcome, and Thorin smiled. He knew anyone would make fun of him if he voiced the feeling he got when he stepped inside a rink, or call him blasphemous, but the only word he could use to describe it was reverential. His skin prickled, protesting the chill, and Thorin forced himself back to his investigation and climbed up into the stands to see if one of the staff had arrived. He was alone. Shaking his head, Thorin turned to see a figure appear on the bench. They wore a white t-shirt, and he thought it might be one of the younger players. He realized it was Bilbo when she swung over the boards, leg pads catching the light as she perched two water bottles on the ledge and put her gloves on, grabbing her stick and gliding onto the ice. After a few warm ups laps, she didn’t go to the blue paint like he had expected, instead going to the middle of the circle closest to where he stood concealed in the shadows. She assumed her stance, and began to shuffle facing the boards to the next face off dot with powerful thrusts of her right leg.

As she went back to her starting point and came back the same way, she made it two dots down before reversing direction, and Thorin sank to the cold cement, recognizing Bilbo planned to go around the entire rink, back and forth, leapfrogging from red circle to red circle. Her gloves never wavered, even when her shirt started to stick to her back and steam rose from her shoulders. She made it back around to her starting point, then turned and made one last complete circuit, pushing faster and faster until she reached her goal and fell to her knees, gasping for breath before going to the bench and pouring water over her face. When the goaltender finally went to the crease and started some movement drills, Thorin realized he had been staring at her for ten minutes when he was supposed to be checking on the new stick orders, and left Bilbo to her workout.

 

When practice began, Thorin watched his goaltender for signs of fatigue, but Bilbo never flagged through the difficult power play and penalty kill drills, doing well even against the bulk of Dwalin screening her, going so far as to put her glove on his back and push him off balance, making him miss an easy pass from his brother through the slot. Gandalf blew his whistle as Fíli and Kíli broke into laughter, and Bilbo’s grin as she straightened from her stance was infectious. Thorin glided over, his stick in both hands as he stopped close to the crease. “Dwalin, if she can push you I’d hate to see you against one of the big boys!”

“None of them can get at my kidneys.” The forward glowered at Bilbo, who returned his scowl with wide eyed innocence before breaking into a smile.

“Sorry Dwalin.” She tapped his shin pads and he cuffed her shoulder, skating back to the neutral zone with the others. Gandalf dumped the puck into the far corner this time, and Bilbo stopped it behind the net for Bofur, who tried to pass to his brother, but Kíli was there in a flash of speed, yelling for Ori to break up the boards. Thorin caught his breath as Ori and Fíli skated by the other close enough to make half of the team wince in anticipation of a collision, the puck changing sticks in a smooth pass that a dozen defensemen couldn’t intercept. The three youngsters swept into the far zone going as fast as Thorin had ever seen, dodging around Óin and Glóin with ease as Kíli shot the puck into the empty net with a beautiful wrist shot that picked the upper corner. Everyone tapped their stick on the ice, even Óin and Glóin, and Thorin smiled as the three rejoined them at center ice.

“I’d like to see that first game.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say when Kíli’s face lost its smile, and hastened to soften his tone. “Good job today, all of you. The more you practice that play, the better it’s going to be. Not sure Dwalin and I could do that.” Everyone laughed, even Kíli, and they finished off the practice with a scrimmage, Bilbo switching ends halfway through. Everyone was playing well with their lines, but it was hard to know how they would do against another team. Thorin wondered if he dared see if there was a team who might agree to a friendly game, but rejected the idea as soon as it arrived. He wasn’t about to cheat. Preseason would give them time to adjust before the real season, and if they couldn’t, they didn’t deserve to win.

Watching Fíli lead another breakout from the bench, facing off against Nori and Dori, Thorin couldn’t help remembering the first time he had taken his nephew for skating lessons and shook his head. He was getting old if he was starting to reminisce during practice. Fíli deked around Dori and sniped over Bilbo’s shoulder, catching the far corner of the net with the puck and raising his arms in celebration. Bilbo flipped the puck out of the net to Nori, and mimed a save a few times, moving her blocker shoulder up and recentering herself as the next line started towards her. Bombur tried the same shot and she pushed into the save, sending the puck over the glass into the Zamboni’s area where Radagast was sitting. The old man fell out of his chair, his pipe flying out of his mouth over his head followed by a sleeping hedgehog.

“Sebastian!” Radagast popped above the boards and caught the descending animal with one hand, to a round of sticks hitting the boards and ice as Bilbo skated over to put her mask to the crack in the glass. Radagast waved her away, laughing, and Gandalf chuckled.

“She’s doing well.”

“Yes.” Thorin hadn’t heard his coach walking down the bench and wondered what else he had missed watching Bilbo. “Everyone is doing well. But we need a game to see how we work together.”

“We’ll get there soon enough. I still have a month where I can really destroy your bodies before we have to let them recover. I’ll see you in the gym. Get them off the ice in ten.”

“You got it, Gandalf. What’s it today, arms, agility?” Gandalf’s eyes twinkled as he shrugged, leaning on his stick and straightening.

“It’s a surprise.”

“All right then.” Thorin jumped onto the ice as Bifur skated to the bench, and joined the play Bofur and Ori were trying to set up, letting go of all his worries and letting the pleasure of playing take him over for a few blessed minutes. Thorin ended walking back to the locker room with Bilbo, her helmet pushed back on her head and her water bottle in her glove. “Good practice today, goalie. You’re getting faster.”

“Thanks cap.” She grinned as she used her elbow to push the locker room door open, going to her stall and squirting water at Kíli after he flicked a ball of tape at her head. When she shrugged out of her chest protector, exposing her sweat-darkened sports bra, Thorin turned his eyes back to his skates before jerking his head back up, wondering if he was seeing things.

“Nice bruise, goalie!” Fíli called from his stall and Bilbo looked down at her ribs and touched the dark bruise on her right side.

“Where did that come from?” She poked it and shrugged. “Beauty.”

“Your ribs okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Bilbo waved her hand and fell to her knees to start working at the straps on her leg pads. “It barely hurts.” Thorin realized he was staring and went back to undressing, but he wondered what the necklace was that she had tucked back into her bra. He thought he had recognized the charm. Changing to gym clothes, Thorin waited for Dwalin. His friend was taping up his knee, the faded scar almost hidden again with hair.

“How is it?”

“It’ll hold a few more seasons. As long as I need it to.”

“Yeah, well, sounds like Gandalf has it in for us so ice it afterwards.”

“Teach your grandmother.” Thorin only smiled and made his way to the gym with Fíli and Bombur to find a leg circuit set up, Gandalf sitting in a chair in the middle of the room with a stopwatch. Pieces of paper indicated the exercise in front of various weights, benches and equipment. Even the big balance balls had been dragged out of the corner, waiting for their victims. Thorin stood near the middle of the room as the rest of the team trailed in behind him, all reacting to the sight of their upcoming torture.

“Pick your first station, everyone. I want to see ten circuits out of all of you.” Thorin already ached and straightened his shoulders to hide the groan he wanted to let out. From the moans and comments behind him, the rest of the team didn’t share his resolve. Bilbo stopped at his side, evaluating the circuit.

“You’re getting soft, coach.”

“Perhaps. Just for that, you can start on the balancing squats.” Knowing she had already put in a leg workout, Thorin wouldn’t have blamed her if she complained, but she only laughed.

“Let’s make that more interesting, shall we? You can throw a tennis ball at me while I do them.”

“Agreed.”

“Bilbo, you idiot!” Kíli put her in a brief headlock, ruffling her tawny curls. She grabbed his arm and flipped him over her as she fell to her knees, controlling his descent to the padded floor to the cheers of the others.

“You’ll thank me twenty games in.” Patting Kíli’s head, Bilbo joined Bofur as he started some warm up stretches in the empty section of the gym, and Thorin raised his eyebrow at his nephew.

“What? We do it at home all the time, Thorin.”

“At home and here are two different places. Luckily for you, or I would bring in some of your baby pictures to hang up. Your mom would love that.”

“Hey now!” Kíli reared back, putting up his hands in surrender.

“But I won’t because you’re my teammate, and you deserve a certain level of respect. So the next time you want to call someone an idiot, remember that. Bilbo is pushing herself to a higher level, and if you follow her example you’re going to have a rookie season that will go down in history. Please apologize to her before we leave.”

“Okay.” Pleased that Kíli was taking his words seriously, Thorin went to join in the warmups and prepared himself for the upcoming workout. The music started pumping and Gandalf help up the stopwatch.

“Two minutes then switch. Do not walk! Keep your heartbeat up! And begin!” Thorin hefted the hand weights and started on lunges, unable to stop his grin as Gandalf picked up a bucket of tennis balls and started lobbing them at Bilbo. She was perched on top of a balance ball, her face locked in concentration as she caught them one after another. Twenty minutes in, Thorin’s legs were burning. Eight rotations through, he almost fell off the sled as he tried to stand and tried not to listen to Gandalf chuckling at Fíli’s antics on the agility blocks.

By the time they finished and went into cool down stretching, helping each other hold difficult poses, Thorin remembered some good news he had received. “Hey, goalie, I heard back from your helmet company. They’re sending an artist next week.”

“Really!” Bilbo almost sat up but Nori had her legs pinned down to the mat and she fell back with a grunt, sticking out her tongue at her defenseman.

“And your new pads and gloves too. They got the sketches you did with Ori, and they need to come take measurements and see how you play so they can build your pads.”

“That’s great.”

“Why don’t I get customized gloves?” Kíli whined and his brother reached over to flick him behind the ear.

“If you generated more ticket sales they’d think about it. You got that stick sponsorship anyway, stop whining.” Kíli scoffed but Thorin knew how much that tiny ad campaign had meant to his nephew. “And you could have decided to be a goalie.”

“No way. No offense, Bilbo.”

“None taken.” She lobbed a stray tennis ball up in the air, nearly hitting Kíli on the head before he managed to swat it away.

“Ow, don’t make me do that again!”

“Wimp.” But Fíli didn’t say anything else to tease his younger brother, focusing on his hip flexor stretch with a grimace. Gandalf had been hard on everyone today, demanding perfection. Thinking about tomorrow had Thorin pushing on his adductors and knees, knowing he was at risk for injury if he didn’t let the protesting muscles rest.

After stretching everyone was in pain, and Thorin hobbled into the trainer’s room with the rest of his team. Even Kíli the irrepressible was silent in his misery, climbing into an ice tub without a word. Thorin was able to avoid talking or looking at Bilbo until Dís came in the trainer’s room, talking on her phone. “Yeah, he’s right here.” She put the phone into her hand and raised her eyebrow at her brother, who grumbled and sat up in the ice bath, drying his hands. “It’s the _Post_. Wanted to get a sit down interview with you for the season preview.”

“It couldn’t wait until I was out of here?”

“Not really.” Dís shoved the phone at him and Thorin forced himself to chat with the editor, finally agreeing to open the gym and ice to a photographer and Sigrid for a feature that would run two weeks before opening night. The older man finished with one final request.

“And we’d really like some time with all the players, do a section of get to know your Axes type spread. Could you ask them to think about a few lines about themselves?”

“You got it.” Which meant asking Balin to come up with a few lines about everyone. Thorin said goodbye and sank back join to the water with a groan. “Dís!”

“You’ll get over it. And hey, girl’s clinic tomorrow, so make sure you guys shower and look presentable.”

“Don’t we always?”

“No.” Dís stopped by Bella’s tub and Thorin listened to them talk about the workout, and Dís promised to get them all burgers to help them recover from the day. “Thorin, your should come over too. If you sit at home alone you’ll come limping in tomorrow and won’t be good for anything.”

“Thanks.” Rolling his eyes, Thorin flicked water at Dís and dodged her retaliation. “See you later, then?”

“Sure thing.” The ice had numbed him enough that he could walk back to the locker room and change without too much agony. It wasn’t until he was home and contemplating what he could bring to dinner that the ache had settled in deep. It was only knowing that everyone else felt just as bad that helped him out the door and to the nearby corner store to pick up some deli salad as an offering and drive to the old family home.

He found Kíli shooting on the net out in the driveway and sighed, remembering when off ice workouts didn’t leave him counting every gray hair. “Hey kid.”

“What’d you bring me?”

“Nothing sweet.”

“Aw.” Kíli missed the left corner of the net and winced when the puck decapitated some of the flowers in the yard. “Let me take it!” He ran inside, jumping over the prone form of the cat, which blinked his eyes but didn’t move. Thorin bent down and offered his hand to the stately animal.

“I don’t know how you survive those two, Minty.”

“He bites holes in their socks.” Dís’ voice came from the sofa and she popped her head over to wrinkle her nose at them both. “Thanks for coming. I’m so tired of hotel rooms.”

“Yeah. Brought some salad.”

“Thanks. Bilbo’s trying to teach Fíli how to grill. Make sure they haven’t set themselves on fire.”

“You let Fíli near open flame?” He ducked the tennis ball she hurled over his head, ignoring the protest from his legs, and made sure Kíli had left the salad in the kitchen before going outside. The sight that greeted him had a laugh escaping him before he could help himself. “You two are a credit to the team.” Ice bags covered the two young players from hip to ankle, held on with wide swathes of cling wrap they must have stolen from Óin’s cabinet.

“Hey cap!” Bilbo waved the tongs while Fíli smirked and stroked his mustache. “Old college trick. Tomorrow Fíli and I are going to skate circles around the rest of you.”

“You had better or I’m showing Sigrid this picture.” Thorin held up his phone and snapped off two shots before they could move. “What’s grilling?”

“Burgers and dogs. Got some peppers and onions too.”

“Nice.” Bilbo raised the hatch and flipped a few patties, releasing a cloud of steam that had Thorin’s mouth watering. “Smells great. Need plates or anything?”

“We’re good here. Just need to get the table set.” Thorin raised his eyebrow at Fíli, who grumbled but made his way back inside with slow steps, the ice announcing his every move. Bilbo snorted and closed the grill again. Realizing he had maneuvered himself into this situation, Thorin tried to think of something to say.

“You did really well today. Especially since you did more ice time than we did.” He tried to stop talking as he admitted he had spied on her, but Bilbo only shrugged.

“I need to get a lot stronger. And I don’t have much time before I need to start getting healthy for the season. Fifty games without a backup is going to be hard.”

“Yeah. Well, you’re getting there.” Fíli and Kíli came back out bearing plates and silverware, followed by Dís with some of the side dishes. Finding an excuse to leave, Thorin left to get glasses and the water pitcher, his heart racing. He had been flirting, Mahal take his foolish hide. The bustle of setting up the picnic made the lingering tension dissipate and his nephews talked enough to cover his silence.

When the meal ended, and the bags of ice had turned to water and been cut off to teasing and help from Dís, Thorin glanced at the bright red skin on Bilbo’s arms and Fíli’s legs and raised his eyebrow. “Was it worth it?” Bilbo jumped up and turned a cartwheel on the grass, holding an exaggerated pose with arms outstretched for a long moment like a gymnast at the end of her routine.

“Think so!” Stretching her back, she grimaced. “But I shouldn’t do that again for a while.”

“Please don’t.” Dís threw her hands up in the air. “I am not patching you up if you hurt yourself in the backyard.”

“Spoilsport.” But Bilbo sat back down with a smile. “Foam roller still in the living room?”

“It had better be. I should get all three of you one. I must say I’m happy with the state of the house after being gone for a week. No holes in the wall from impromptu shinny or anything.”

“She made me wash dishes.” Kíli chimed in, glancing up from his phone with an exaggerated pout ruined by his brother’s smirk.

“I’ve seen you two wash dishes before, I’m sure she didn’t know what she was getting into.” Thorin shook his head and watched Bilbo out of the corner of his eye. She glanced over at him, but looked away and joined in the teasing. But that glance stayed with him as he helped clear the table and prepared to go home. At the door, he found Bilbo waiting and hesitated, but the rest of the family was still outside.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.” She bent down to grab her shoes from the pile at the door. “I was going to head down to Goldberry’s for a while.”

“Sounds like fun. I’m sure getting out of here and to some peace and quiet helps.”

“Yeah.” She pulled her hair back into a messy bun and glanced over her shoulder as a shout rose from the backyard. “See you tomorrow, cap.” She was gone in an instant, closing the door behind her with no noise and disappearing down the sidewalk.

“See you tomorrow.” Thorin watched Bilbo leave and closed his eyes. He needed to focus. Everything rode on the next year. But all he could think about was the way her smile made him feel. The only thing that was certain was he was facing a difficult season.

 

Next morning, the parking lot outside the public entrance of the Fortress was packed, and Thorin had to park in the last row around the corner, finding Dwalin’s bike and his nephew’s car nearby. Stepping inside the player’s entrance, he heard the sounds of a crowd echoing around the rink as Balin stepped out of the trainer’s room. “Ah, Thorin. Radagast is looking for you. Did you know we had over three hundred players register?”

“News to me. That would have been nice to know.”

“Yeah. We shouldn’t have let registration go through today. We’re not going to get to spend much time with any one camper.”

“I have an idea.” Thorin saw Bilbo peeking out of the hallway leading to the locker room, a blue hat hiding her face. “Goalie, come here. I need a distraction while we try and get everything settled.”

“Yavanna save me.” But she came out, staring out towards the sounds of the crowd. “Did you see the bloody parking lot? How many registered?”

“Evidently there were a few hundred over the last week.” She coughed, blinking up at him and Thorin clenched his fist behind his back to stop himself from touching her face.

“Damn. Didn’t see that coming.”

“We didn’t think about it. And I was so focused on ticket sales I forgot there would be increased interest in the clinics as well.” Balin patted her arm and Bilbo took a deep breath.

“I’m going to need a few sharpies no matter what you want me to do.”

“That’s it. Just give me and Radagast half an hour or so to figure out a solution.” Balin left and Bilbo tugged at the brim of her hat and zipped up her warmup jacket before she nodded, mouth twisting.

“Please tell me you’ll try and figure something out. This happens a lot to girls camps.”

“I promise I’m trying.” Thorin also promised himself he would have another talk with Dís soon. She had said the same thing, a long time ago, and from the look in Bilbo’s eyes, not much had changed. “It’s not going to be a disaster, eh? Chin up. They’ll all be happy to see you.” Her mouth smoothed into a small smile and she nodded. Thorin sucked at his teeth, thinking about what to do when Balin approached, holding a bunch of pens and handing them to the goaltender. “Balin, when the rest of the team arrives, send them out to the lobby to help. Where are the boys?”

“Hiding in the locker room.” Thorin fetched his nephews as escorts, and the group made their way out to the teeming lobby. Little girls started to call Bilbo’s name, waving hockey sticks in the air, and the crowd pushed closer. By the time they reached a table, the lobby was dangerously overcrowded, and Thorin winced at the thought of the smaller players being crushed underfoot. He stepped up on a nearby bench and whistled, two fingers in his mouth, and took advantage of the momentary lull, mind racing as his mouth spouted out a plan he hadn’t had time to form.

“I need the U-12s to start getting dressed now. Ice time is in thirty minutes. Bilbo will be signing autographs between sessions. U-16s, you’re ice time is at 1. We’re sorry for the confusion, but we weren’t expecting this many players and we’re doing our best.” He held his breath, hoping an angry mob wasn’t about to rip him apart, but movement began as the parents and players started to organize themselves. Bilbo was signing helmets and gloves, sticks and jerseys, smiling at every girl who stared at her and talking to them for a few moments. Fíli and Kíli were asked for their autographs too, but Thorin was ignored as he made his way towards the locker room.

“Nicely handled, Thorin.” Radagast was in his normal brown jacket, ratty hat hiding half of his face, and a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“We’ll give up our ice for a day.” Inwardly, Thorin cursed the loss, but anything less would have been unfair. “Where’s Gandalf?”

“Dealing with all the last minute registrations. Quite a tidy haul.”

“Then give everyone an Axes t-shirt from last year. I know there’s boxes piled up in your office.” Bilbo would end up signing them all at the end of the day, but it would make up for the chaos that was happening all around as girls changed in shifts, the tiny public locker rooms unable to handle the numbers.

“Oh, it would be nice to get rid of them, good idea.” Radagast left, humming something loud enough to turn heads, and Thorin poked his head back into the lobby. The initial crush had given way to an orderly queue, and Bilbo was moving everyone along with a smile. He waved Fíli over and told him to get on the ice in twenty minutes, even if it meant carrying Bilbo away. Pleased that he had managed to salvage something positive from an overwhelming situation, Thorin went to lace up and get ready for some coaching.

Bilbo arrived twenty-five minutes later with Fíli and Kíli in tow, beaming as she headed for her stall. “I’m going to wear my lower pads today. Did you see how many goalies showed up? I’ve never seen that many pads in one place before.”

“I did. We’ll figure out some games and drills for everyone.” Thorin promised and hustled everyone out the rink, only ten minutes behind schedule. The ice was teeming with young girls and the stands were full of the older players who were cheering every time one of the Axes appeared. Thorin had to laugh as he heard a marked increase in volume as Kíli and Fíli made their entrance, Kíli’s cheeks red and Fíli’s smirk speaking volumes. “You know Sigrid’s here?”

“Course I do. She’s the one who started the cheer so we could make Kíli blush.”

“You’re a horrible big brother, you know.” His chest twisted with the remembered taunt from Frerin’s laughing face, but Thorin clawed back to the present, short of breath at the unexpected memory from so long ago. Fíli, unsuspecting, was rolling his eyes, but his smile gave him away.

“You mean I’m the best. He needs to get used to this now or the first televised game is going to be worse.”

“If that was the only reason why I would agree.” Thorin was about to say more when a genuine roar made it impossible to talk. Bilbo had arrived, hat hiding some of her face but not her smile as she held her stick in the air, waving her catcher at the stands before joining in with the circling campers, gliding alongside girls who hardly came up to her waist and bending her head so they could talk to her. The worshipful joy on every girl’s face as they skated with Bilbo was all that Thorin needed to know he had made the right decision. The smile that she gave him the next time they drew together was beautiful, and he returned it before he knew what he was doing.

“Ladies, did Thorin introduce himself?” The group shook their heads. “Good. Ladies, this is Thorin Thráinson, captain of the Axes and one of the people who decided to draft me.” The near lie had him shooting Bilbo an astonished glance, but she only grinned. “And he’s in charge today, okay? Let’s help him get everyone to center ice.” Defeated, Thorin nodded and blew his whistle, holding his stick over his head and gliding to the red dot at the center. Whistles and whoops drowned Bilbo out, but she waited until the crowd settled down and greeted the campers, thanking them for coming and congratulating them on their hard work. Her words were punctuated by more cheers from the stands and the ice, and the flash of all kinds of cameras.

Thorin took over, splitting campers into groups of ten and assigning them a station. Before long the ice was filled with purposeful shouting, and Thorin glanced up to see two television cameras set up in the stands now. Most home games got one. Shaking his head at the ways of the world, Thorin gazed around at the ice rink, marveling at the energy, and couldn’t help the rush of joy that squeezed his heart. This is what hockey meant.

He ended up near Bilbo as she watched over an agility drill, whacking her stick on the ice to signal the next player, and knelt on the ice next to her. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good. This is fun.” She grinned and brought her stick down again, raising her voice. “Hey, work those edges! There you go.”

“I was going to let you and the goalies have one of the zones for yourselves for a bit.”

“Sounds good.” She smiled and glanced down at him. “Thanks.”

“Bilbo?” One of the skaters pushed closer, and both adults jumped when they realized they had stopped running the drill.

“Sorry, Morwen, we’re going to change things up a little, okay? This is my captain. Have you gotten around to his station yet?” The girls shook their heads and Bilbo grinned, knowing full well Thorin had been avoiding the very thing. “Then he can show you out players some skating drills while I work with the goalies for a little, all right?” She winked before she straightened and started to make her way around the ice, gathering goaltenders in her wake. Morwen tugged on Thorin’s sleeve.

“Are your nephews going to help too?”

“You bet they are. Let’s go get them.” It wasn’t fair in the slightest, but he needed something to clear his mind of Bilbo and he watched the young players swarm Fíli and Kíli with enthusiastic questions for a few minutes before he took pity on them and restarted the circuit. Dís was nearby, watching another group work on their stickhandling, but her pointed glance said she knew what he was doing and he wasn’t going to get away with it for long. The entire ice was bustling; Gimli was teaching one group quick starts, while Glóin was guiding another through cones to work on their edge control. Bifur was puck wrangling with Bofur, both of them laughing as Kíli tried to get his campers to pay attention to his passing drill but being pestered by questions as he tried to talk.

Deciding to let the girls have a few more moments of fun, Thorin turned his attention down the ice to the far end, curious how Bilbo was managing the scores of little goaltenders and impressed that she had them all engaged and working hard. Finally it was time for a scrimmage, but there were so many goalies and players they split the ice into three and barely managed to keep a lid on the chaos, ducking from flying pucks and bodies as best they could.

He wrapped up the ice time with another salute to the parents and watched Bilbo get mobbed as she stepped off the ice. She was there as the ice was resurfaced by a gleeful Radagast, who had found his toque again and was waving at the cameras on every turn.

Prepping for the next ice time gave Thorin the quiet he needed to be alone with his thoughts. He could still hear the excited shouts and cries from the lobby where Bilbo was holding court, still wearing her pads and scribbling her name as fast as she could. He sank into his stall and looked down at the drills unseeing. It was hard, performing for the audience, especially without his helmet, pretending that when Bilbo smiled at him he didn’t want to confess his feelings.

“Good job so far.” Dís tapped his shin with her stick as she walked by, heading for the heat gun. “But loosen up, eh? Unclench your jaw at some point.”

“Yeah yeah.” He waved her off, rolling his eyes, and went to go check on the ice. Her reminder helped him as he made his way through the throngs around Bilbo to give her the ten minute warning, keeping his voice distant enough to maintain the illusion of leadership without being too cold. He managed to keep the same distance the rest of the clinic and disappeared into the gym as Bilbo was swarmed at the end of the ice, leaving Dís and Fíli to flank the goaltender and keep her supplied with pens. He was leaving the gym by the time she had finished with the last autograph seekers and the impromptu interviews. He waved goodbye as she jumped on one of the treadmills, her eyes tired but her smile speaking volumes.

Saruman could bitch and moan all he wanted about Bilbo. The reactions of the campers when the goaltender spoke to them had reminded Thorin how much Dís had longed for other girls like her, and for heroes of her own gender. Smaug had cost his little sister her dream. The damn thief wouldn’t rob another generation of their role model now. It was with renewed determination that he left the rink. Today had given him a glimpse of into Bilbo he hadn’t seen before. The earnest way she had looked after every camper, wanting to see the best from them, showed a generous spirit that had only made her more attractive.

But today had shown him how impossible his crush really was. Her every move had been scrutinized, filmed by hundreds of parents and the local news station. When they were on television together, he couldn’t give the slightest indication of his feelings or he would cause a scandal that would ruin Bilbo’s career. That any repercussions had less chance of ruining him only made the entire situation worse. It was decided. He would be her teammate, her captain, but nothing more. Heart heavy, Thorin turned into his driveway and tried to ignore the sorrow that had clenched around his heart when he had cast aside hope.


	6. Interlude of Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finds herself staring at the beginning of her rookie year and wondering how she and her team will perform. And maybe she’ll solve the problem of Thorin while she’s waiting.

The clinics were over, and life was back to what constituted as normal for the Axes. Somehow, summer was winding down and already the morning air carried the distant promise of snow, reminding everyone that first game day was fast approaching. The team was in fine form, thanks to Gandalf’s relentless training, and now they were in endurance mode, building up muscles and lungs for a short bench and a long season. But Bilbo could still not make herself believe that she was a professional hockey player about to begin her rookie year. It had been too easy, too much like a dream that her favorite team and her hero had decided she was the one. Only Thorin’s continued distrust kept her from believing she was hallucinating the entire experience.

That, and the constant questions from within the hockey world about her ability to make the jump. She avoided her old blogs and websites, but little things leaked through, sometimes in the masses of fan mail Dís gave her on a weekly basis and did her best to screen, or even in magazines at the checkout lines at the grocery store. No one was waiting for her first game to make a decision about her abilities, except old coaches and teammates who might have offered up a defense. Never had Bilbo rued more her first attempt to retire after school. She had alienated old friends and created doubt where there might have been support had her actions been different. There was a large undercurrent of betrayal from many of the women she had played with in her career, a sense she had abandoned them and women’s hockey for her own gain. She only hoped that if she proved herself she would instead pave the way for others until she was no longer unique.

Now she was reading an old copy of From the Crease, which had stopped printing years before and was safely out of date while still keeping her focused. She thought about the goals she had let in at last practice, seeing the angles and what she could have done to fill them better, and wished the Axes could record more of their practices. As long as she was wishing, she could ask for a goalie coach and infinite practice pads too, and shook her head. It was unfair for her to expect such things from a team on their last legs, especially when they had decided to believe in her. Wondering if reviewing old game footage would help, Bilbo turned the page and grimaced at the old picture under her thumb.

Frerin Thráinson, golden goaltender who had bled out in a cold ice rink far from home. She had seen his picture in Dís’ office, startled at the similarity between Fíli and his uncle, but no one had mentioned him in her months living with his family, and she wondered at how raw their grief still was if they were still hiding their pain. The article was in fact a memorial in his honor, listing his many achievements and how he had been having an exceptional season that might have lifted the Axes back home had he not been killed. The author said it was an accident but Bilbo shook her head. To cut a throat like that took precision and a great deal of strength. Her hand went to her necklace and she shuddered before setting the magazine down as a knock came at the inner door to the main house.

Bilbo rolled off of her bed with a groan, cursing Gandalf and his insistence on one more mile for seven consecutive, and went to see who was waiting. Dís stood waiting with a large white box in her hands and a suspicious smile. Even now Bilbo had to tamp down the flutter of disbelief that she shared a roof with the great Dís Thráinson. “Present from the goalie fairies.”

“What did I do now?”

“It’s what you’ll have to do for this one. Come on, I’m dying to see it.” Bilbo took the heavy box and lifted the flaps, pushing aside tissue paper to reveal the dome of a helmet. Her helmet.

“Oh Yavanna’s trees! Already?”

“Rush job, since Cabri want that ad campaign yesterday.” Dís grinned. “Don’t you want to see how it turned out?”

“Yes and no.” Bilbo walked into the living to set down her prize so she could use both hands to work out the gorgeous helmet, her fingers trembling as she caressed the shiny chrome bars. Contact paper obscured the art for now, but Bilbo was more interested on the inside. She let down her hair and snapped the mask into place, tugging the straps and adjusting the back plate until it fit her face and didn’t move when she shook her head. Only then did she slip it off and turn it around. Dís perched on the couch next to her and nodded.

“It looks exactly how you wanted. How does it feel?”

“Perfect. I expected nothing less. I’ve been wearing Cabri since I was a bantam.” Getting one nail under the paper, Bilbo tore off the protective covering in moments and dropped the trash to the floor, unable to breath. The first thing she saw was the green circle on her chin guard, where the blue runes that picked out her nickname seemed to glow even in the soft light from the window. The crest of the helmet showed a spreading oak tree, the trunk covered in ivy. Twisting branches swept back towards the back of the helmet, winding around tiny belladonna flowers. That detail would go overlooked by most but Bilbo knew her mother would always be helping her guard the goal, and caressed the painted blooms with a smile.

The twin axes, engraved with intricate knot work, dominated both sides of the bars on the cheek guards, covering a mountain range extending around the sides and to the back plate where an acorn sprouted oak leaves. Dís stilled when she saw that, and Bilbo cleared her throat.

“There was an oak tree outside my old house. I used to use the acorns as pucks when I was little.” She couldn’t say more, about the birthday parties and picnics under those branches and bit her lip, pushing away those memories.

“Between that and the oak tree you know people are going to ask about Thorin.”

“What does he have...oh fuck.” Of course she knew his nickname. And maybe she had spared a thought for it, and the strange coincidence of their numbers, but had failed to think of public reaction to such things. The Oak stick he had used to save his own life the day his brother died was a familiar legend in the hockey world.

“Yeah. Did you not think about that?” Dís raised her eyebrow, but she wasn’t smiling and Bilbo knew she had given herself away.

“Not at all.” Bilbo groaned, her mind racing as she tried to think of a deflection. She did not want Dís to stop trusting her. “I mean, no one even calls him Oakenshield anymore, do they?”

“Maybe not every day but he’s been know by that name for a long time and the press remembers. I’m sure Cabri will have you do an interview about the significance and maybe if you play up the home angle people will just think it’s a funny coincidence like your numbers.”

“Hey, my mom was 22 before Thorin was born. She got there first.”

“There you go.” Bilbo sighed, her fingers tangled in the chrome bars, when Dís glanced up and ambushed the younger woman. “So how long has he been trying to flirt with you?” The helmet nearly went through the coffee table before Bilbo managed to catch it, her cheeks flaming. “I can make him stop. I can tell he’s trying not to, but you don’t have to put up with him.”

“Please don’t.” Bilbo slapped her hand over her mouth, swearing as Dís started to laugh, falling back into the couch with her eyes crinkled closed. “Oh, Valar above, please don’t tell him I said that.”

“Not a word. You two better get this straightened out before the season starts, though.” The taller woman snorted, still giggling behind her hand, but took a deep breath and controlled herself. “You’re just his type. I should have seen this coming.”

“Yavanna.” Bilbo groaned and hid her face in her hands, but Dís put a comforting hand on her back.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry? It goes against every one of my rules! He’s my teammate, my captain. I’m his goalie. Plus there’s the age thing. I mean, he couldn’t be my dad, but he was fourteen when I was born. And if the press got hold of it my career would be over.” Bilbo ground the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, her jaw clenched.

“So? You’re going to let all that stop you?” Dís sounded amused and Bella raised her head to see the older woman still laughing. “Because you and he are going to either spend months pining after the other and drive us all insane or do something on camera and let the world know.”

“Which would ruin my career and probably his.”

“Yup.”

“You’re no help!”

“I’m not supposed to be.” Dís ruffled Bella’s hair. “You’re telling me you never dated a teammate before?”

“No.”

“Uh huh.” Her tone said enough and Bilbo sighed.

“Not saying I never wanted to. There was my...shit.”

“What?”

“The captain my freshman and sophomore year.” Bella mumbled. Everyone knew Arwen Undómiel. And Dís had presented her eponymous award to Arwen two years in a row while Bella had looked on, adoring and ignored, from the sidelines.

“Ah, you have a type. She’s in the WRHL now. Is that...?” Dís didn’t actually voice the delicate question about Bilbo’s motivations but it hung between them like a bubble waiting to burst. Bilbo sighed.

“One reason, yes.”

“Hmm, so, dark hair, blue eyes, about a foot bigger than you, anything else?”

“I doubt Thorin sings.” Dís stilled, smile fading as Bilbo swore, falling back into the couch.

“I really shouldn’t tell you this. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard him but when we went to temple in Erebor he was always called on for the solos and if we hadn’t already been playing hockey he could have been a cantor for Mahal. Our priestess would have loved that.”

“I had no idea.” Bilbo covered her eyes with her forearm, trying to stop imagining Thorin’s deep voice singing a hymn to her. Yavanna would smite her next time she dared darken a grove for her impiety.

“I would be surprised if anyone else knew outside the family. Maybe you will get him to sing again. Anyway. I’ve got some calls to make and you need to get to the rink.”

“Fuck me, I’m going to be late.” Bella bounced up and grabbed her mask. “So...”

“So go and figure your life out, Baggins. I believe in you.” And with that reassurance in her ears, Bilbo ran to change and jogged the rink with her helmet in her backpack, her mind swirling with all kinds of questions.

 

Yet a week later Bilbo had still failed to act. She had done her photoshoot for Cabri, which had been thrilling, and her new pads and helmet and their backups were all getting broken in. To add to the surrealness her ad campaign already hitting billboards in Gondor and Rohan. No one had said anything to her face about the oak tree, but Dís was laughing at the dinner table every time one of her sons mentioned their uncle, and Bilbo was about to start eating in her apartment if she couldn’t get her blushing under control. But now that she was paying more attention to what Thorin was doing and saying instead of just staring, Bilbo had realized Dís was right. He would start getting teasing and flirty when they had a moment together, and the second someone else skated up, would withdraw and leave her. Maybe it wasn’t her. The thought that the great Thorin Oakenshield might have some of the same feeling she did was hard to imagine. Even now she could remember the television ads and billboards when Thorin had been one of the poster boys for the RHL. She thought age had only improved him.

“Goalie, where were you?” With a start, Bilbo looked up at Balin and blinked her eyes. Half the team was gone, and she was still in her lower pads staring out at nothing.

“I have no idea. Stopping pucks somewhere.”

“Come on, they’ll be waiting.” Balin tapped her right pad with his stick and winked before leaving. Bilbo shook her head. This is exactly what Dís had been warning her against. She ignored Thorin on the ice as much as she could without being rude, but in the gym as they did circuits of lifting she could not help but admire his strength. When it was her turn, she put on twenty more pounds than her last personal record, taking a deep breath and testing the weight as Gandalf looked on, his silent amusement clear.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m pleased to see you pushing yourself so hard. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” She assumed the starting position, tightened her hands on the bar and grunted as she jerked the weight over her head. There was a moment when she wasn’t sure she had it, then her muscle memory took over and she landed in a perfect squat, weight balanced over her head. Breathing hard, Bilbo let it drop and stood, turning to Gandalf.

“Well done indeed.” Bilbo grinned, nodding her head to her coach before doing two more reps at the same weight. When she went to record her totals for the day, she glanced at her starting amounts and shook her head in amazement. Three months ago she never would have guessed she would have gotten so much stronger. She was comfortably in the middle of everyone’s maximums, and while part of her rankled that she no longer led the team as she had in college, she was doing well and shouldn’t be trying to match Dwalin and Thorin and especially Dori, who could lift well over twice what she could.

She didn’t mean to strut her new record, but as the others recorded their own totals for the day, Bilbo received a few pats on the back, a fist bump from Dwalin and most surprising, a heartfelt congratulations from Ori. She returned his hug with a smile, going to get her water bottle when she saw Thorin leaving. Shaking her head, she joined the rest of the team on the mats, stretching her hips and groin until she was close to doing the splits, feeling her hips release and trying to convince them to give her a little more flex. Her hips had always been her weak point and she could not afford an injury. By the time they were finishing up, Thorin still hadn’t returned and Bilbo couldn’t help the glance she shot the door to the lobby. A sudden voice from below jolted her back to the room.

“Bilbo, I forgot my keys.” Kíli whined from the floor at her feet and Bilbo resisted the urge to nudge him in the ribs. Ever since he had apologized for disrespecting her at the rink she had been striving to be a touch more professional. Even if they had just spent the last three nights in an epic video game tournament.

“You’re lucky I forgot my book in there, kid.” He stuck out his tongue and Bilbo laughed before jumping over his prone form and making her way out of the old racquetball court down the musty hallway. She loved every smell in the Fortress, even the ones that made other people wrinkle their nose. When she reached the locker room she could smell the buckets of pucks that were near the door and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and letting the calming scent roll over her, then pushed the heavy door open with one hand, the other covering her eyes.

“Anyone naked?” The greeting had become standard for anyone entering the locker room, as easy as that, and Bilbo wished she could drag every Melkor-damned reporter through to see how simple creating a gender inclusive space could be.

“Nope.” A deep voice answered and Bilbo bit her lip. Shit. Of course Thorin had gone to the locker room. She had been avoiding this exact scenario for too long now. Right. Sort out her life. Lowering her hand, Bilbo could not help the smile that grew when she saw Thorin sitting in his stall, a blade in his hand that he was pushing onto his stick with ease, the muscles on both arms flexing to their best advantage.

“Hi cap.”

“Goalie.” He was so damn nice to look at. His silver flecked hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, begged for her hands and his blue green eyes that changed depending on what he wore always challenged her no matter what she was doing. Bilbo gulped and tried to think of something to say to explain her presence, but all she could hear was Dís laughing.

“Kíli forgot his book. I mean keys.” She blurted after a few too many seconds of silence. To her relief, Thorin relaxed into a genuine smile, setting his stick aside.

“Don’t let him start using you for everything he forgets. I swear if that boy’s arm wasn’t attached he’d forget that too. When he was a peewee we made it to the next town before he realized he left his actual bag.” Bilbo laughed, finding the story far too easy to believe.

“Well, I forgot my book, but I won’t let him get away with it next time.” She went to Kíli’s stall and stood on her tiptoes to try and see the top shelf, but she had to jump onto the bench. Even then, she had to stretch to reach the top of the stall, and heard Thorin laugh. She glanced over her shoulder and found herself sharing a smile with him. As she turned and jumped back to the floor, Thorin’s face changed but he didn’t break eye contact.

“Bilbo...”

“Yes?” She cocked her head to the side, walking around the twin axes on the floor with care, and stopped a few steps away, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Of course.” He was lying. There was actual pain in his eyes as he looked at her, his fists and jaw clenched, but he did not break eye contact. Fumbling for something to say, Bilbo tried to break the tension with a lame joke.

“Then is there something wrong with my face?” She cringed at the sound of her voice, disbelief rising. She had actually said that. To Thorin.

“Mahal fucking wept!” He dragged a hand down his face and beard, covering his mouth as he looked at her and Bilbo’s heart clenched in her chest when she understood what he was implying.

“Really? Me?” He had to say it. She couldn’t bear it if she tried something and he didn’t feel the same way she did, all her rules be damned. Dís could promise her brother was smitten and not know the truth. Thorin was unreadable. Bilbo still couldn’t get a sense of him on the ice, when he was skating circles around them all.

“Yes.” Dropping his hand, Thorin looked at her with furrowed brow, mouth twisted. He did. All the guilt she had been carrying the last months melted away and she stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm and shivering. He wanted her. That was all she needed. She could not wait another second for him to act. With a growl, Bilbo wrapped a hand behind his neck and pulled Thorin into a kiss, exalting when his arms wrapped around her shoulders. He accepted her control, letting her push him back into his stall and sitting, hitting the wall with a grunt but his hands on her didn’t falter.

Bilbo did everything she had been dreaming of, burying her hands in his hair and pressing kisses down the pillar of his neck, nipping at the skin before remembering herself and breaking away, panting and shaking. Thorin’s eyes were closed, his chest heaving, but he cradled her face between his hands and when he opened his eyes to stare at her, Bilbo could not help the laughter that bubbled out of her chest. Thorin matched her smile, helping her stand and staring up at her from his seat. “What do you want from me?”

“More than I’m willing to do here in an unlocked room.” She grinned down at him, her entire body exulting in the feel of his hands on her skin. “They’re going to come looking for me.” Thorin glanced at the keys and book lying on the blue carpet and pulled her in for one last kiss, before dropping his lips to her ear.

“Your helmet is stunning.” Thorin’s breath scorched her and Bilbo closed her eyes, gasping as he continued, “I should not have doubted you but seeing the axes and the mountains showed me that your heart is truly with us.” He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers, and put his hands on her shoulders. Unused to such scrutiny, Bilbo felt her cheeks flush but kept her gaze firm.

“I’m with you for as long as this takes.” Thorin nodded, glancing at the door with what she hoped was regret, and turned back to her.

“Can I call you tonight?”

“You had better.” She ran her hands through her hair, trying to regain her composure, and grinned when Thorin sank back to the bench. Maybe he had been lifting too much, but she was certain she had seen his legs shaking. The way she felt she could hardly blame him. She took a few tottering steps to retrieve her book and Kíli’s key ring before she gained control and left. Out in the hallway she leaned against the wall and let out a long, shuddering sigh. He liked her. Now there were more difficulties to face, but at least they would have each other.

When she got back to the gym and tossed Kíli his keys, Bilbo was sure her flushed cheeks and smile would give her away, but Fíli was showing off with Ori, juggling tennis balls between themselves in dizzying formations. Gandalf was laughing, even when a stray ball went whizzing by his nose and ricocheted off the Númenórean chair to land at Dwalin’s feet. She sat down by Balin and joined in the laughter and applause with the rest of her team. “Nice job today. You keep this up and you’ll have a good season.” Knowing how many goaltenders Balin must have worked with in his career made the compliment all the greater and Bilbo ducked her head, beaming.

“Thank you, Balin.” She was about to say more when Thorin strode back into the gym and nodded to Gandalf, who was now thumbing through a sheaf of papers. There was no trace of the uncertain man she had seen in the locker room. Until his eye caught hers for the briefest of moments and the corner of his mouth curled into his beard before what she liked to call his captain mask fell back in place. It was enough. He wasn’t lying. “Good practice today, everyone. Does anyone need to see Óin about anything?” A few players nodded, but no one moved as Thorin folded his arms across his chest and looked each of them in the face, until the gym was silent. “I have never felt so confident going into a season with a team as I do now. Thank you all. Tomorrow is a rest day. And I mean it. I don’t want to hear from Lyda or Sigrid that you’ve been spotted around town. Have a good day and drive safe.” Everyone clapped, and Thorin left, giving Bilbo a final glance. She decided to shower at home and only spent a second in the locker room, stuffing her clothes in her backpack and waiting Fíli and Kíli outside. She sat on the thin strip of grass between the Fortress and the parking lot, staring up at the sky.

“Holy shit, mom. It actually happened. Thorin likes me.” She covered her face and laughed, basking in the hot mountain sun and wishing she could go visit her parent’s joint headstone. “You both would like him, I think. And I know you’re proud of me. I get to be a Baggins wearing 22 in the pros, mom. Just like you always dreamed.” She heard the outer doors open and sat up, hoping her teammate hadn’t heard her talking to herself. Nori and Ori were walking out together, followed by Fíli and Kíli.

“Hey goalie. Keep this up. I don’t want to wear my pads this season.”

“Sure thing, Nori. I think you’re just scared of the fans.”

“Of your fans, yes I am! I don’t want to mess with teenage girls. There’s no way I’m strong enough for that.” Nori tousled her hair and jumped back from her hand, grinning. “Too slow. See you kids tomorrow.”

“Bye Ori. Nice one timer today.” Ori mumbled something before catching up with his brother, and Bilbo followed Fíli to the Jeep. She still hadn’t gotten used to the way he drove through the hilly streets and listened to the brothers argue about who had lifted more that day. They refused to check the paper Gandalf kept and by the end of the ride Bilbo decided she would have to start tracking all of them to avoid another month of the same conversation. Begging off from more video games for the moment, Bilbo went to her apartment with relief, needing peace and quiet to process what had happened. A more honest corner of her mind admitted she wanted to avoid Dís until she could stop smiling.

A lot of her rules for life had been learned at her grandmother’s knee. Adamanta Took was the first female hockey player from the Shire to go play college hockey back when most schools had been single gender, wearing long woolen skirts and perfectly set hair. The ‘no dating teammates’ rule had been applied to the team at their brother college and now that Bilbo thought about it, she was certain her grandmother had been making some rather saucy jokes about curfew that an eight year old could never understand. “Get it, grandma.” Bilbo groaned at her lame joke and let out her breath.

Being gone from the Shire like this, knowing Bag End’s new owners had probably ripped out the garden and redecorated all the rooms was more difficult than she had thought. She missed the old green door, the cozy kitchen, even the oak tree down in the field. Gone. Like her parents. Cursing, Bilbo sat up and groped along her dresser for her phone and pushed play on her favorite song before old pain overwhelmed her, letting the tinny speakers drown out her sorrow. It helped thinking her parents would be furious if she was getting off her mental game when she was so close to achieving the goal they had helped her strive for. In five minutes her heartbeat was under control and she was able to totter to the kitchen to gulp down a glass of water. The yard beckoned but she hesitated, to her external relief. Just as Bilbo reached for the door, her phone rang in her hand and Thorin’s name flashed on her screen. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo answered with a cheerful greeting, stomach in knots.

“Goalie!” Thorin sounded startled and Bilbo snorted. Who else would have answered her phone?

“Hey cap.”

“How are you?”

“Sore.” It was the truth but listening to his voice catch Bilbo knew she had caught him off guard.

“Mahal.” The growl of his voice whenever he cursed had never seemed more attractive than now. Bella stifled her answering whimper and kept her tone light. She was well beyond the rules now.

“I shouldn’t tease. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Me too.”

“I think you need to come over soon. I can cook.” Bilbo offered, laying back on her bed and looking out the window at the garden. Yavanna knew she needed to eat soon and Dís had some elk in the fridge that would make a good hash.

“How soon?” Thorin’s voice was amused, but she could hear longing underneath his words and smiled up at the ceiling.

“Tonight would be nice.”

“You’re...not joking.”

“No.”

“If we go any further with this I’m going to have to tell the rest of the team.” Bilbo closed her eyes and let out her breath.

“Of course. It’s not exactly a secret, though. Your sister cornered me to ask if your flirting was annoying me.” Thorin choked and his voice was strangled and higher pitched when he managed to speak next.

“And?”

“I said no. And she laughed at me.”

“Of course she did.” There was a long pause, but Bilbo could be patient when she needed to be and was rewarded with a low laugh from the other end of the line. “She’s supposed to tease me since I’m her big brother. Right?”

“Don’t look at me. No siblings.”

“Damn it. I’m the one who put you in her fucking house.” His growl made the hairs on her arm stand straight up and Bilbo lowered her voice, trying to tempt him.

“Come over and make her regret it.”

“I can’t.” Her breath caught at his answer and she heard his tone change, become pleading. “I want to, more than anything. But you’re my teammate. I’m older than you. I’m part owner of the team you’re on. It’s wrong of me to be doing this.”

“Thorin, you didn’t use any of those things to attract me. You hid it so well you made me feel guilty!” A sudden knock came at the door and she groaned as she heard Kíli calling her, saying something about video games. “The terrible two want me to play with them. I’m going to be going for a walk after dinner, around eight. Near the park.” She waited. Thorin did not disappoint.

“I’ll be in the area, I think.”

“Then maybe I’ll see you.” She hung up and jumped to her feet to quell the continued knocking. “I’m coming, I’m coming! And I call Sheik, Fíli!”

 

At twenty past eight, the sky still glowing over the western mountains in lurid purples and blues, Bilbo watched a familiar figure stride into the park and make their way towards where she sat, in the circle of blue spruce trees that had given the entire area its name. She tugged at her loose hair, traitor mind dredging up memories of other first dates that had not ended well. As Thorin got closer, ducking underneath a branch and entering the grove, she stood, brushing dead pine needles from her brown skirt. A breeze whistled by her cheek, sending the tops of the trees swaying overhead as she tugged her red jacket closer, leaving her arms crossed over her chest as Thorin slowed to a stop a few steps away. “Hey cap.” Yavanna help her, he was wearing a white tshirt and jeans and she had never seen such simple clothing look so good. Meanwhile she had spent an hour getting ready and ruining it all by getting covered in sap and needles.

“Goalie.” He stared down at her, the same look in his eyes that she had seen before in the locker room. And once again, she blurted out the first thought in her mind to fill the silence he left.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to show or not.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” He took a step closer. “Ever.” His voice dropped on the last word, and his neck spasmed before he jerked his head to the side. Her arms tightened around herself. The air seemed heavy between them, crackling with the potential for something, but she couldn’t decide if it would be good or bad. Thorin stilled himself and met her eyes again, his fists loosening. “How long?” Bilbo grinned despite herself, her answer bubbling out as she felt the strange tension fading away to replaced with something friendlier.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Before I bloody well met you I thought you were gorgeous. Always have. But when we met you were standoffish and judging and all I wanted was to prove I belonged, that you were all right to take the risk on me.” She took a deep breath, her hands clenched in her skirt. “Then getting to know you these past few months, to know your family, told me I had judged you too harshly.”

“Bilbo.” Thorin breathed out, his face softening as he took another step. “I’m sorry I didn’t welcome you right away. I’ve regretted that. You do deserve to be here. We’re going to prove it to everyone.” He reached out and caressed Bilbo’s cheek, brushing her hair back and bending his head to breath a kiss over her lips. He stepped back, but kept his eyes on her, and Bilbo could only smile as she took in his hesitation.

“Well.” Bilbo licked her lips. “Now that’s out in the open.” She started to close the distance between them, freezing when shouts rose from the park. “Damn it.”

“It’s just some kids.” But Thorin didn’t move either, his forehead creasing as he glanced behind him. Bilbo cursed under her breath. She wanted this time with him, to talk before anyone else saw them.

“Come on.” She took his hand and led him away from the lights, into the dark neighborhoods and towards his home. Thorin didn’t say anything, but tightened his fingers around hers and Bilbo laughed, tugging him up the hill and walking close enough that she could feel the warmth from his skin. His little house was dark, but still welcoming underneath the two big pine trees flanking his driveway. He unlocked the door and flipped on the light to reveal a sparse living room. The only color was the wall of pictures over the television, but Bilbo didn’t have time to see any details before Thorin’s hand was on her waist and he was turning her to face him.

“What do you want now that we have a locked door?”

“I don’t really know.” Bilbo swallowed and Thorin dropped his hand from her, moving away so he wasn’t looming over her, saying nothing. “Maybe we could just talk for a little bit? Although I wouldn’t mind some more kissing.” Thorin snorted, another one of his smiles dispelling the last of her nerves.

“Anything you want, Bilbo. Do you want to sit? Water?”

“Please.” She settled down on the couch, her fingers running over the soft fabric. Thorin stared down at her, then took two steps forward and knelt so their eyes were level. Without a word, Bilbo touched his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his skin through his thin shirt. His breathing changed, but he held still, hands at his sides. She tilted her head and he mimicked her, his lips parting. It was all the invitation she needed. One hand stayed on his chest, the other curling behind his neck to guide them into a soft kiss, the same spark she had felt in the locker room still there.

Thorin growled against her lips, one hand cupping her jaw and the other tracing down her neck until his fingers were tangled with the thin chain of her necklace. As they moved together, finding a more comfortable position, his fingers tugged at the necklace again and they both realized he was stuck at the same time. Bilbo leaned back against the arm of the couch and tried to help even as she suppressed her giggles while failing at both. “Holy shit.”

“Tell me about it.” He worked his index finger loose and after a few more moments of struggling was free. Instead of letting go of the chain, Thorin tugged on it, pulling the little charm out from her bra, and let the warm brass figure sit in his palm before he looked at it. Bilbo’s breath stilled as she watched him, seeing a flicker in his eyes she didn’t know how to interpret. The little firefly glittered up at him and he barked a laugh that was half sob. “Thorin?”

“I’m sorry. Just...why do you wear this?”

“Present when I was a kid. We used to chase lightning bugs in the fields behind Bag End.” Her fingers closed over his and she kissed his knuckles, drawing in a soft breath. “And you? What do they mean to you?”

“When I was little my mother would take Frerin and I out in the foothills near Erebor and we would watch the fireflies dance. Before my father decided I needed to start training to be his heir.” Bilbo brought her hand up to his temple, soothing him, and Thorin tucked the necklace back into her shirt. Silence filled the air between them as he looked away from her, eyes closed and jaw clenched. Clearing her throat, Bilbo started to talk in a low voice, aware of how his eyes snapped back to her face.

“I didn’t understand what had happened when he died. I had actually just made the switch and it scared my dad. We all had to wear throat guards up through U18. I’m so sorry you had to see him die.”

“No one seems to remember him.” Thorin bent down and rested his forehead against hers, his breath harsh. Bilbo wrapped her arms around him and drew his head into the hollow of her neck, the tightness in his back and shoulders telling her everything. She wondered how long he had blamed himself, and how long he had refused to speak of his brother.

“It’s okay.” Her own voice was choked and Thorin’s back spasmed. She felt something cold on her neck and almost jerked away before she realized Thorin was crying, great heaving sobs that wracked him. All she could do was whisper his name and run her hands up and down his back, painfully aware she wasn’t providing much comfort. When his grief had spent itself, Thorin leaned away from her and she offered up her crumpled handkerchief from her pocket.

“Thanks.” His voice was raw but she thought she could see some of the burden he carried was gone, his shoulders less tense and his eyes sharper. “I don’t remember the last time I cried like that. I couldn’t at his funeral.”

“You had a lot of people to take care of.”

“Yeah. And Dad was gone two years later.” Thorin set her handkerchief aside. “I’ll wash that for you. Thanks.”

“It’s good to cry sometimes.” Thorin nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is and you’re so sweet.” He leaned forward to kiss her, his touch softer, lips salty still. Bilbo melted into him. “Killed the mood though.”

“That’s okay.” Bilbo pushed her hair back from her face and let out a breath. “I should get going.” He nodded, helping her stand and going to fetch her jacket while she straightened her skirt and shirt. When Thorin came back to hold her jacket for her, he was smiling and gave her a mock stern look.

“Promise me you’ll rest tomorrow.”

“I promise.”

“Okay.” He bent to kiss her, lingering over her lips and breathing her name before stepping back and going to the door, his slow steps screaming his reluctance. Following him to the door, Bilbo wished they had met any other way, but she was going to be his teammate first. Once the door was open and the cool night air helped clear her head, she turned to see Thorin giving her a wry smile.

“Some time I showed you.” Bilbo only laughed and stood on her tiptoes to give Thorin a hug, tucking her head under his chin.

“The best time, cap.”

“Thanks.” He kissed her forehead and didn’t loosen his arms from her waist. Bilbo wrinkled her nose up at him.

“I’m not going to disappear, promise. You’re stuck with me.”

“Yes I am.” He grinned and rested his hands on either side of the doorjamb, leaning forward to kiss her again. “Thank Mahal. Thank you, Bilbo.”

“Thank you, Thorin.” They drew apart in slow increments, both hesitating until a car crested the hill and Bilbo started backwards, heart in her throat. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Standing in the doorway, Thorin watched her back down the drive to the street, his eyes never leaving her until Bilbo blew him a kiss in a giddy rush and turned, waving over her shoulder as she started for home. Glancing up at the stars as she walked away from Thorin’s place, the cool air chilled Bilbo’s skin as she smiled. It seemed she might have found some answers after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and to the Colorado Avalanche for going into a ten man shootout and making me stay up late to finish this latest chapter.


	7. A Team Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Axes push through their training and start to find the magic of their hard work. Thorin and Bilbo start to understand the implications of their attraction, and discover some unexpected news.

Thorin had just finished melting the wax on his stick when he heard Bilbo asking if everyone was decent. "Goalie." She dropped her hand and gave him a quick smile as she stood in the doorway. They had been texting the past day, but he still felt embarrassed that he had cried in front of her. He squashed that thought with annoyance. Crying was not weakness and Bilbo had helped him realize how much he had suppressed Frerin's death.

"Hey. Didn't think I'd be the first back."

"Where are the terrible two?" Thorin glanced over her shoulder, waiting to hear his nephews arguing or laughing, filling the space around them with their energy. But Bilbo was shaking her head, letting the door close behind her.

"I couldn't take another joy ride so I said I wanted to go for a walk and I took the bus here instead." Stepping closer, Thorin couldn't help the laugh he gave at the expression on her face.

"I think I should apologize for his driving but Dwalin taught him first and I just tried to undo the damage." He bent, kissing her cheek. She sighed into him, her hands coming up to rest on his neck, her calluses dragging over his skin. Her breath was hot against his cheek and Thorin groaned, hands tightening on her waist.

"Missed you."

They had decided that breaking the rules of Gandalf's rest day would be a step too far, but he was already missing the feel of her under his hands, the smell of leather she carried with her, and Thorin took his time reacquainting himself with Bilbo, deepening their kisses until he knew he was at the verge of pushing things too far. They disentangled by inches, hands loosening, breath lengthening. The middle of their locker room was not the place for this but he still couldn't let go.

"Mmm." She stood on her tiptoes and smooth his hair back from his forehead. "You too. I want another first date soon. Before the season starts."

"I could ask for nothing more."

"Okay then." They stayed together for a moment, foreheads pressed together, then she sank to her heels and stepped back. "No more in here. Too distracting."

"Agreed." Thorin let out his breath, pleased she was being a goaltender first, and increased the distance between them so he couldn't smell her perfume. She quirked a smile that nearly had him back at her side.

"However, rest of the building is fair game."

"And what does that mean?" Her answer nearly had Thorin on the ground.

"It means I want to make out in the Zamboni room."

"Mahal." Thorin took two more steps back, covering his eyes for a moment. She was insane.

"What? I like the smells back there."

"Radagast lives back there."

"Oh." Bilbo actually pouted, and Thorin's resolve wavered under her hazel eyes.

"We could make it a quickie while he's on the ice." Now her smile hit him full force and Thorin made himself sit as Dwalin knocked on the door and Bilbo answered him as she went to her stall with unhurried steps, dodging the twin axes on the carpet and shaking her head at her near miss.

"Careful!"

"Sorry, Dwalin, the badger was about ten feet closer to the door and I keep thinking I'm back at school."

"Next time I'll tackle you and you'll remember." Bilbo spun, grinning, and widened her stance as she crossed her arms.

"I would love to watch you try." Dwalin's mouth dropped open, but an evil grin that Thorin knew too well spread across the big forward's face and he took two steps forward, making Bilbo twitch backwards.

"That's what I thought. Stick to punching my kidneys on the ice, goalie."

"Yeah yeah." Bilbo rolled her eyes, but her smile grew as she went to her stall. She was beautiful when she smiled like that, teasing and sarcastic, and Thorin had to duck his head to stare at his feet before he gave himself away to Dwalin. By the time he and Bilbo were dressed, the rest of the team had arrived, and Gandalf was waiting on the bench with two whiteboards and a mug of steaming tea.

"I hope you took advantage of your rest day. I want to start special teams and we're not leaving the ice until it's perfect."

"Fair enough." Thorin hit Bilbo's leg pad. "You ready, goalie?"

"We'll find out." She tapped his shin and jumped the boards, starting a slow circle around the ice.

Gandalf watched her skate, smiling over his mug, and turned to Thorin. "How are things between you two?"

"I think we've reached an accord." Thorin prayed his face was as calm as his voice, and he turned so his coach couldn't see both his eyes. "I just want to get to preseason now."

"Soon enough." Thorin joined Bilbo in her warm up laps, saying nothing but enjoying her presence. She broke away after a few minutes to set up the nets and start her movement drills, and as the lights came up and the rest of the team joined them, Thorin forgot they were anything but teammates. She was his goaltender, challenging everyone and pushing herself through every penalty kill and powerplay as though a game rode on the outcome. Gandalf was relentless, calling out each mistake and forcing them to start over until every line knew their role.

Despite the protest of muscles and lungs, Thorin loved every minute of the back and forth, watching his team move together in endless cycles, communicating with body language as much as speech. Compared to the team of of weeks ago they had become faster, stronger, a missed pass a rarity. He could see how the team of last season had been building towards this new playbook and wondered at how far ahead Gandalf had planned, putting the basics into place long before revealing the next step. The Rhohavion would require another adjustment and Thorin allowed himself to hope the Axes might be more dominant than even he and Dís had dared dream. The next whistle blew and he skated out to the center, accepting the pass from Dwalin and all he knew was the ice beneath his feet and the stick in his hands.

  
Three hours later figure skaters and their parents started to arrive and Gandalf blew his whistle. The entire team took a knee where they were, most propping themselves upon their sticks, shoulders steaming and faces slack. Thorin was pleased at how fast the burn in his lungs faded, his breathing slowing to normal as his coach beamed at them. "Excellent job. Light run and stretch today then go home. We'll continue this tomorrow." Everyone nodded but made no noise as they made their way back to the locker room. Thorin hoped they had all felt the connection he had, and the realization they had become a team in truth.

Even Bilbo, acting as third defenseman on the power play, had moved with Glóin, Óin, Nori and Dori as though she had known them for years. They were ready. It was time to make sure everything else was as well in the next few weeks, to give them them all a fighting chance, and Thorin hoped his sister was thinking along similar lines. On cue, Kíli broke the silence in the room as he finished changing for a run.

"Uncle, Mom wants you to come over. She said there's some business stuff."

"I'll head over once I'm clean." Thorin nodded and Kíli smiled before running out after Fíli and Bilbo.

"Tell Dís hello from us and she should come by to watch a practice sometime."

"I will, Balin. I'm sure she'd like to."

"We all know she's working harder than any three of us put together." Balin beamed at the team photo from last year, where Dís stood at his side with a small smile on her otherwise serious mien. "But we miss her all the same."

"I'll let her know." Thorin changed into his trainers and joined Bifur on their way to the gym. Bifur tapped his heart and signed that he was glad he had decided to stay with the team to see them like they had been today. Thorin was certain he missed some of the meaning; even after five years he was still a novice, but he touched his heart in response. Outside, he could see Bilbo entering the woods, her ponytail bouncing back and forth, and glanced at his watch before shrugging.

"Thirty minutes?" Bifur nodded and took off, powerful legs pumping and overtaking Bilbo in less than a minute. Thorin followed, matching his pace to her and waiting until they were alone.  
"Good job today."

"Thanks. My stick handling isn't quite where I want it but we're getting there."

"Keep up the wrist strength. I can't imagine handling the puck with that thing you call a stick but you all seem to manage."

"It's not that much heavier than your stick." She snorted, veering right to avoid a branch on the trail. "It's always the glove that's the hardest. Breaking in three gloves is going to be weird."

"I thought Tuckborough had a decent sponsorship."

"You're operating with more money than both programs put together. My grandfather...more properly, his company, were generous contributors to the school and athletics in particular. Grandma always made sure some got earmarked for the hockey." Her voice went up at the end of her sentence and she let out two quick breaths. Taking the hint, Thorin kept quiet as they continued running, turning around after fifteen minutes and passing some of their teammates, but the sound of their breathing meshed together made him all too aware how much he wanted Bilbo.

Back in the locker room, she went to shower first, blowing Thorin a kiss before she disappeared. Alone, he stretched, letting his warm muscles tell him when to stop. "What a good example." Dwalin peeked around the door and grinned. "Bilbo showering?"

"Yup."

"Will you sit on my hip?"

"How is it holding up?" Thorin waited for his friend to lie down and get his right hip into position before starting to apply pressure, feeling the muscles protest before Dwalin forced them to relax into the stretch, his face set.

"I'll manage. Óin says I need more cortisone therapy."

"Listen to him." Thorin shifted his weight to apply more pressure and Dwalin cursed just as Bilbo stepped out of the shower, hair wrapped in a towel and already dressed in her street clothes.

"Come here, goalie." Dwalin grunted. "You're better at this than him."

"You mean I'm the right weight to sit on you." She obliged, leaving Thorin to shower as the rest of the team straggled in, all in high spirits. He could hear teasing and laughing and allowed himself to smile. What a team they had become.

  
Arriving at his sister's, Thorin could hear shouting from the living room and entered a full pitched battle on the television. Bright cartoon figures, many from his own youth, battered at each other in a melee, ending with a triumphant cry from Fíli and groans from the other two. Bilbo looked up and waved her control at him, smiling as she asked, "Hey Thorin. Wanna jump in?"

"No thanks, goalie. I'd only piss you all off and get in the way." He wanted to sit next to her, push their hips together to feel her warmth through her sweatpants and smell her damp curls. From the smile she was giving him, he was broadcasting his thoughts all too clearly.

"It's true. We've been trying to teach him for years." Fíli was about to start another game when Dís called from the kitchen and everyone trooped in to take dishes and silverware back to the living room. She refused to give any hints on why she wanted Thorin over until they were finished with lunch.

"What're we watching?"

"Gímli put together this together for me of preseason press. I want to get you four ready so you can help the others." Dís slid the disc into the player and quick snapshots flashed by; even on the RHL Network, minor leagues got minutes of press a day, and most of what Gímli had found were team breakdowns. The Axes had been ranked higher than normal, but still fell in the middle of the league. Most ranked the Mirkwood Archers and the Stone Pass Giants as the ones to beat. Once the images had stopped flashing by, Dís flipped the set off and shrugged.

"Better than last year. Not what I had hoped. But we lost seven players including our goalie so I guess to the outside world we look vulnerable."

"Preseason will change those rankings." Thorin spoke with confidence, back in the role of captain. His three players watched him with solemn eyes, only smiling when he did. "Don't let it concern you. You've seen us this season, with the new playbook. They haven't."

"Exactly. A lot to do in two weeks. But I want you three focused on the game. Get strong, stay healthy, and stretch. Your uncle and I will see to everything." Thorin held his smile in place. He and Dís should have had this conversation alone. Fíli wore the A on his jersey, and Thorin wanted his nephew to see the work needed to support a team on the road, the details and planning that consumed Dís and Thorin outside the rink. For now he held his tongue. He was not their father, and he had sworn long ago to support Dís in whatever she wanted for her children. He was about to suggest that the two of them go to her office when Fíli's phone buzzed and he sat up from the couch.

“Hey, turn on ASN. Someone just posted that they’re doing something on hockey.” Fíli nudged Kíli with his foot, who stuck out his tongue but flipped the channel. Bilbo sat up from her armchair as the commercial break ended and the overproduced graphic introduction began flashing.

“Welcome back. As hockey is gearing up to begin preseason in a few short weeks, we’ve been tracking social media to see what has fans excited. And for once the RHL has taken a backseat to one of the minor leagues.” The sportscaster paused as Bilbo’s rookie portrait appeared on screen and the entire living room made a strangled noise in their throat. “An Internet phenomenon around newly drafted goaltender Belladonna Baggins has recently surfaced. Women of all ages who call themselves the 'Burglar's Babes' are organizing cheer sections at every game, home and away, for the Axes' organization. Baggins's jersey, number 22, leads sales for all EHL players and rivals many popular RHL players as well. It seems the grassroots movement is going to become a familiar sight around the EHL this season."

A few pictures, with captions from various social media sites, flashed across the screen showing women of all ages wearing either Axes' shirts with Bilbo's distinctive signature on the sleeve, or her jersey. Bilbo's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide as she stared at all her fans, then her hands reached out for her phone without breaking away from the television.

"What are you doing?" Dís made no move to stop Bilbo, but the younger woman paused.

"I'm getting back online. I knew I shouldn't have disappeared entirely."

"It was for the best in the first few months, believe me. What's your handle, anyway?"

"Burglar 22."

"Well isn't that convenient." Dís laughed and nearly ruffled Bilbo's hair before she glanced over at her brother and winked before putting her hands down. Oblivious to the sibling byplay, Bilbo was typing something, counting under her breath and sitting back before touching another button and closing her eyes.

"I hope they like that."

"What'd you say?" Fíli leaned over her shoulder and Thorin tried not to let the brief flutter of jealousy in his chest overwhelm him. "Ha, cute. They're going to love it." Bilbo grinned but glanced over at Dís.

"I promise I won't let it get out of control. Just a couple minutes every day. And maybe a link to the box office for game day." Dís nodded, her lips pursed and eyes distant. Thorin knew that look. His baby sister's brain was working far ahead the rest of them.

"Not a bad idea. You should talk with Glóin and Balin. They run the website and Gímli's been working with the social media accounts."

"Good for him." Bilbo's phone started to buzz, and she muttered about turning off notifications before reading her screen and showing Fíli, who laughed and went to nudge Kíli with his foot again. His little brother was ready and pulled Fíli onto the ground in one smooth motion, before jumping to his feet and running for the back door with an enraged blond on his heels. Dís turned off the set and stood.

"I predict my inbox is already full with more media requests. See you in a bit." And with that, they were alone. Bilbo glanced over with raised eyebrow.

"I don't know how Kíli and Fíli can run after practice today."

"It's always been a mystery." Thorin reached across the couch and took her hand, kissing her knuckles. "It won't be often that we're alone."

"Truth."

"How do you feel?"

"Honored." Bilbo stared down at their clasped hands, forehead creased. "Nervous."

"Perfectly normal."

"Did you see how many people were wearing my jersey? We should raffle off a jersey signed by the team at the opener."

"Or maybe just one by you." Thorin shifted closer, letting their hips touch. She was as warm as he had dreamed.

"I'm part of a team, Thorin. If they want to be here for me they cheer for all of us." Bilbo sniffed, but nestled her head below his chin. "I need to stretch."

"So do I. Eat a burger tonight."

"Tonight is shepherd's pie with cauliflower replacing the potato."

"You're going to get the boys to eat that?"

"I'm not going to tell them." She sniggered into his arm, and Thorin kissed the top of her head.

"Evil."

"You should stay."

"I have a steak with my name on it marinating in my fridge."

"Sounds delicious. I'll see you tomorrow then." Bilbo stood, grimacing, before bending over to give him one last kiss before going back to stretching. Thorin made his way back to Dís' office, but she was on the landline phone, typing on both her cell and computer, and didn't even pause as she mouthed 'later' while continuing her conversation. He slipped out the garage entrance and walked home, hands shoved in his pockets.

The valley was bursting with life, every bush and tree green and leafy. Already the tops of the mountains showed early signs of snow. Summer was always brief up here in the valley. Before the leaves started to change hockey would be all consuming, and they would miss the crisp autumn air when they were down on the plains. Now that they might leave the Blue Mountains, he wondered how much they would miss their second home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can all blame Patrick Roy for this one.


	8. Of New Seasons and Old Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first game is fast approaching. Hobbiton is waiting and all Thorin can think about is Bilbo. He’s trusted a stranger with everything and even as they negotiate their new relationship both captain and goaltender face new challenges.

The next week Thorin and Bilbo only saw each other at the rink. She was getting pulled for interview after interview, building momentum for the season, and he was busy behind the scenes, making sure Daisy was ready for the road, Óin had everything he needed, their equipment chests were fully filled, could actually be pushed on their rickety wheels, and a million other details that Dís needed him to take care of.

All the sponsorships were in place and patches had to be ironed onto away and home jerseys, leading to some late nights at Glóin’s house and a few burned fingers. Gímli and Bilbo were in conference often, updating the Axes’ accounts with candid pictures and a countdown to the first preseason game in Hobbiton. Suddenly practices became less about fitness and more about fine tuning their system, and even though most of them were still icing and getting what therapy Óin could offer, Thorin slept better at night and didn't wake up with as many aches.

Film review started, with commentary provided by Radagast sitting in the upper stands and the occasional appearance of Sebastian sniffing the lens. Bilbo had a good eye and was her sharpest critic, always pointing out her errors but accepting praise when she made a save or a clearing pass. They studied games from last year, picking plays apart and watching their opponents, but tried not to put too much emphasis on tactics, knowing how quickly a team could change over the off season. The entire team was on edge, poised at the beginning of a marathon but unable to start, but the energy was good and Gandalf used it to bring them closer together on the ice.

  
It was September. Thorin parked outside the Fortress and blinked when he saw a white van and several strangers carrying cables and lights. "Oh damn it, it's already the third, isn't it?" Groaning, he glanced in his rear view mirror. No, he had not shaved, and the stubble had more gray at the temples than he had realized. Too late. He kept a suit in Gandalf's office, for surprise meetings after practice, and he breathed thanks to his grandfather for the lesson even as he got out of the car.

One of the women, her blazer slung over one arm and a bulging portfolio over her shoulder approached. "Mister Thráinson?"

"Thorin is fine." He offered his hand. "You must be Judith."

"That's me." Her Rohhiric accent was thick and friendly. "This place is gorgeous. I'd love to use these mountains as a backdrop for some of the intro videos."

"Great idea. Look forward to seeing it all."

"You're the last on the schedule. Bit remote up here but the best scenery."

"We appreciate you making the trip. Ice first or out here?"

"I've started my camera guys on the B roll, so I think we'll do suits first." She glanced up as Dwalin's bike roared into the parking lot. "Before traffic gets any worse."

"Everyone should be here soon. We're in your hands." His words come back to haunt him once he was in his suit, had his hair pulled back in a ponytail and was sat down by the chatty makeup artist. Wearing makeup was something he was long used to, but Judith wanted some outdoor shots and that meant more lighting and fussing than he was used to.

Bilbo showed up with Fíli and Kíli, her makeup already done and her hair curled. She was wearing the platform boots again, but her balance seemed better than it had in April. Soon they were out in the parking lot, standing on a temporary stage and taking group footage and pictures, smiling and moving in what felt like unnatural ways. But looking at the brief playback Judith showed them, even Thorin had to admit they looked good.

They moved onto individual shots, wearing gloves and holding sticks while still in their suits, staring at the camera and framed so text could be added later for the Jumbotrons and billboards. Fíli posed with his stick over both shoulders, grinning and flirting with the camera until Kíli started mimicking him behind the cameraman. Bilbo and Ori stood together laughing, leaning on their sticks. Thorin saw the still photograph grabbing a few candid shots and turned his eyes away from Bilbo as quickly as he could, letting his smile fade.

Once the sun started to get too bright, the production was moved indoors and the ice in front of the painted was cleaned with broom and cloth by Radagast as the game nets were brought out. Carpet for the cameras and lights was in place, fluttered over by a nervous Radagast until Gandalf managed to calm his old friend down with a nip from his ever present flask.

"Right, I want shots of everyone skating to this mark and just staring at the camera for ten seconds. Gear on but no helmets." The crisp blue home jerseys, fresh from the cleaners, glowed against the white of the ice and almost everyone managed to hit the mark on their first try and stare into the red blinking light until Judith yelled cut. Bofur slid past his first try and and had to jump over the strip of carpet before circling back around to the clack of sticks on the ice, waving and throwing kisses to the empty stands. A few more still shots completed the set, and the crew was leaving before noon. They switched right into practice since they had booked the ice until two, racing around the rink working on passing until Thorin swore he could read Dwalin and Balin's mind.

After ice time and the long stretch session in the gym afterward, he went to go hang up his suit again when a low whistle caught his attention. Bilbo, her makeup scrubbed off and hair back in a messy bun, was down the hall and grinning. She winked before disappearing into the skate sharpening room. Radagast was out on the ice. Recalling her previous challenge, Thorin went after her and found himself pushed up against the wall before the lights came on.

  
"We're going to get caught." Thorin could only whisper as he stared up at the ceiling, his entire body tensed while a wicked mouth and tongue controlled him. Bilbo's laughter around his cock had his toes curling into his sandals, and he looked down to watch as she cupped his balls and drew his shaft deeper into her mouth. "We're going to get caught and we'll both get in trouble."

"Mmm-hmm." Her answering hum was enough to bring an inarticulate cry to his lips, covered by his arm just in time. Seeming to take the sound as a challenge, the beguiling woman kneeling and giving him the best blowjob he'd ever had increased her pace and pressure until he was clinging to the counter, unable to stand without support. Thorin threw his head back and started to recite his stats from the season, but he got his plus minus wrong and forgot what the next one was as she did something with her tongue he wasn't sure was physically possible and he pumped his cum into her mouth, shuddering as her lips wrapped around his head to clean the last lingering drops from his skin.

Overwhelmed, Thorin sank to kneel across from her and pulled her into a deep kiss, tasting his seed layered with her own sweetness until she pushed against his shoulder and he heard footsteps. She stood, wiping the back of her hand across her lips as he fumbled with his sweats, getting them back around his hips just as Radagast unlocked the door and jumped when he saw them. Attempting to sound nonchalant, Thorin nodded to the older man. "Sorry if we scared you. Bilbo wanted to see the machine."

"It's nicer than the one we had at school. I was asking Thorin why my edges felt different." Bilbo smiled up at the rink manager, who smiled back even as his eyes danced between the two of them. Aware of the heavy smell of sex lingering in the air, Thorin tried to pretend he was the captain of a professional hockey team and not, as he was beginning to suspect, a horny rookie fresh from the farm.

"Indeed?" For the life of him, Thorin couldn't tell if Radagast was laughing at them, or if he didn't suspect. "I'd be glad to give you a demonstration, Miss Bilbo."

"I'd like that." Thorin's phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to see a reminder flashing.

"Sorry, goalie, we're going over some tape."

"Some other time, then." She gave Radagast a peck on the cheek, and waved as Thorin held the door for them. Covering her mouth, she muffled laughter, and Thorin wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her close and kissing the crown of her head.

"I owe you one."

"Yes you do."

"Shut up."

"Make me." Growling at the challenge, Thorin spun, ready to answer, when he heard voices and cleared his throat.

"We've got to work on our timing." Bilbo snorted again. Film analysis was short today, going over Hobbiton's system. Tomorrow they would watch breakdowns of the returning players, see who was left or right handed and what the match ups should be.

  
As they left the rink, a familiar shape was parked outside the team entrance. The rest of the team, even Kíli, didn't break stride at the sight, but Thorin had forgotten something. "Wow!" Bilbo stepped onto the grass and stared up at the old bus. "Is that ours? She's so cool!" As the rest of the team left the parking lot, Thorin joined Bilbo.

"This is Daisy." Thorin patted the side of the faded blue bus. "All the way from Erebor."

"She's gorgeous." Bilbo stared up at the retouched logo, bright against the sides, and grinned. "Retro."

"You and Kíli need to stop using that word, eh?"

"Sorry." But her smile was unrepentant. "Show me inside." Thorin dug in his pockets and found the spare key. He tugged at the heavy door, listening to the protest of the pneumatic hinges, and held out his hand for Bilbo as the step unfolded. She accepted his help, her strong fingers closing on his for a brief moment, but her attention was focused inside Daisy. The long central aisle was recessed, so there was a small step up to the double seats, and the bunks hung overhead. He and Dori had replaced the mattresses earlier in the week and the smell had improved beyond all expectation. The seats had been beaten and wiped down, but the fabric was faded and worn. Bilbo trailed her hand over the back of two seats and reached up to peak into one of the bunks.  
"These look nice." Thorin thumped the mattress and sighed. He would never understand why they couldn't find anything more comfortable to fit the bunks.

"Only good thing about having a smaller team is we'll have enough bunk space. My rookie season I had to sleep on the floor."

"Even I'm too old to do that."

"I was Kíli's age and my spine agrees." Bilbo grinned and reached up her hand to brush some of his hair out of his face. "What?"

"I much prefer bus rides to cars. Just looking forward to riding with you." Thorin captured her wrist and kissed the palm of her hand.

"We really should tell everyone," his lips continued down to her wrist, "or else we're going to drive ourselves crazy."

"Yeah."

"Right." He let her go with one final kiss. "You're going to be making your professional debut soon. I am not your..." He floundered. What were they anyway? He'd never asked her out. After their first kiss in the locker room they hadn't even eaten alone together. But there was something between them, deeper than any relationship he had even had.

"Boyfriend?"

"Really?"

"Lover seems a little premature." Bilbo shrugged, but her smile was wicked.

"Mahal. I am not your boyfriend for the next few days, I am your captain, you are my goalie."

"And we leave in two days." Bilbo nodded. "Show me the rest." The tiny galley and trainer's cubby met with a wry smile, both small enough Bilbo could barely squeeze in with head room. "How does old school strike you?"

"Worse. You're not helping me feel any less...weird."

"Ah." Bilbo turned and stared up at him for a long moment. "We need a date night."

"Meaning?"

"When's the last time we talked about anything but hockey?"

"Got me there." Thorin leaned against one of the support poles, watching Bilbo's face. Her expressions were open, and right now she was fixing him with a challenge.

"Yeah. I want to wear a dress and makeup and have a normal night with you, even if it's at your place."

"I can't imagine anything else I'd like. But I'm not going to hide you like I'm ashamed. We could go to Lindon." The restaurant was up one of the valleys, commanding a view of the mountains only a millionaire could afford. White tablecloths, waiters with suits and a few discreet booths where a semi famous pair could enjoy a night without worrying about rumors.

"That sounds nice."

"Then it's date." He locked Daisy after helping Bilbo down the steps. "See you tomorrow. I'll be by in the morning to help with food."

"Have a good night." She squeezed his hand and left, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and walking away into the descending twilight.

  
Arriving at Dís' the next morning, Thorin knocked and was about to dig for his keys when he heard footsteps. He wasn't prepared for Bilbo to answer the door, wearing a long white shirt, black leggings and an absence of nephews and sister. The house was prenatural in its quiet and Mahal she smiled so perfectly.

“Hey.” Bilbo leaned against the doorjamb, her mouth pursing, inviting him to stare. “They’re all at the pub for food for the bus. I said I would pack the coolers.”

“Need help?” Thorin bent to kiss her, stumbling as she pulled him inside and pushed him against the nearest wall.

“No. I want you in my bed.” Her breath was hot against his lips and he followed her down the hall as quickly as he could, waiting until the door was locked before putting his hands on her waist again.

“I missed you.”

“In the bedroom right now.” Before he knew what was happening, Bilbo was stripped down her her bra and leggings, and Thorin was pinned to the sheets and lost in her touch. He forgot everything but her, the touch of her hands, the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips. Her perfume rolled over him and he rolled over her, pinning Bilbo to the bed and dropped his fingers to the top of her leggings, tracing the soft skin just under the band. Her breath hitched and he heard the want, felt her yearning as she moaned against his ear. "Not yet.”

“Okay.” Thorin gasped into her neck.

“Not that…” She cleared her throat, falling back to the pillows. “Oh, Yavanna, if I could I would have weeks ago. But I can’t take the risk right now. Understand?”

“More than you know.” Thorin rolled to his side, putting his hand to her hair.

“Of course. Dís warned me...anyway, I can’t be on birth control right now, I hardly have my period anymore so I can’t predict anything, and condoms break.”

“Okay.” Thorin let her snuggle into his chest and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t care. I wouldn’t endanger your career for anything.”

“Thank you.”

"Anytime."

"There's a few other things I'd like to do to you but I think..." Wheels squealed into the driveway and Bilbo rolled up onto her feet in one smooth movement, recovering her shirt and swinging it on over her shoulders, her muscles flexing. Thorin knew he looked like he had been on a run, but stood and followed Bilbo out the living room, sitting on the couch as she slipped back into the kitchen. Bags started flying through the front door and Thorin went outside to help. Dís glanced up as she got out of the jeep.

"Sorry we got back so early."

"Don't know what you're talking about." He growled at Dís as he took two cases of water from her hands.

"Of course not." Sniping at his sister could be quite entertaining but Bilbo was in the kitchen and his nephews were far too close.

"The coolers are in the kitchen." And bless her, Bilbo had every last one of them prepared for the arriving food, and if her cheeks were pink and her hair tousled, she didn't sound out of breath and she didn't even blink when Dís winked at her.

"This all looks good!" Bella held up a plastic bin with salad and grinned. "Wow. This beats the school caf by a fair bit. Fresh food!"

"Thank goodness for Leyda. Without that kitchen we'd be eating soggy sandwiches." Thorin finished packing the perfect little packages and set the last two ice packs in place. Bombur would be able to use the aging microwave on Daisy to turn out entire feasts for starving players. "We'll bring cars up tomorrow and take these to the rink. Thanks, sis."

"I wish I could make it but there's some season stuff to do. I will be watching. Do us proud." She dropped her teasing and squeezed Thorin's shoulder. "Keep these kids safe out there." There was nothing he could say to that. He left, waving goodbye the the trio already settling down in front of the television controllers in hand. He didn't recognize the game, armored soldiers holding unrealistic weaponry, but team building took strange shapes these days.

There were no more excuses. The Blue Mountain Axes were ready for the season, and in two days they would be in Hobbiton. Thorin glanced up at the sky before he left and found himself grinning. It was time for hockey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting through preseason and the building of a team is quite the adventure by itself! I was not expecting 8 chapters of buildup, but that's sports for you. And now I finally get to write some games.


	9. A Game to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for pre season to begin and for the Axes to prove themselves a new team.

"Hey Babes! It's the Burglar here reminding you to come to the preseason opener in Hobbiton! Can't wait to see you all!" Bilbo held her grin until Gímli stopped recording and flashed her a thumbs up. She relaxed into laughter. "Oh, yes, this is happening! Someone, pinch me." Fíli leaned over, nipped her neck and flashed his hand back before she could smack him. "Ow!"

"You did ask."

"Make him go next, Gímli. Go on, Sigrid will be watching." Fíli blushed and Thorin groaned into his hand. Fíli and Sigrid had their own couple moniker now, courtesy of none other than Kíli. If Thorin had to hear Figrid one more time he might vomit. Fortunately for everyone in the tiny office that doubled as a recording studio, Fíli settled down and recorded his own quick greeting, flashing his smile and tossing his hair back over his shoulders. Kíli sat down, as eager as a puppy, almost bouncing in his seat until he managed to control himself. Thorin thought they were done, but Bilbo's hand was on his shoulder as Kíli stood, and the captain was sitting facing the camera before he knew what was happening.

"Looking forward to seeing you all in Hobbiton." His mind went blank and he paused, but held his gaze steady on the lens. "It's going to be a great season with all of you behind the Axes." Bilbo winked as Gímli stopped recording.

"Very nice, captain."

"Thanks, goalie." Thorin glanced down at his hands because the smile she was giving him, in front of his nephews and a boy he thought of as another one, was unfair. He heard her snort and leave, glancing up in time to see Fíli and Kíli exchanging glances. "Meeting's in twenty. Thank you for taking care of those, Gímli. I hope Dís likes them."

"She usually does." Gímli starting packing up his equipment as Fíli and Kíli left, calling Bilbo's name. "See you later, Thorin."

"Later, kid." Thorin left and went to Gandalf's office, finding the weekend play books waiting but absence of coach. Thorin took the pile of paper and rifled through the top few sheets, finding itineraries and the key points about the Millers to remember. Walking into the locker room, he found everyone waiting, most going over their bags and equipment.

"How is everyone?" A chorus of goods and fines replied and Thorin handed out the weekend summaries, going back to stand at the whiteboard and wink at Bilbo while his back was to the room. Her answering smile had his hip into the table before he could recover and Thorin turned his eyes to the rest of the team, certain he had just exposed their secret. No knowing grins met him but Thorin flipped into captain mode with a deep breath.

"Read these over before ice time. Bus leaves tomorrow at five. We'll get to Hobbiton around one. Warmup run and then ice. Game's at seven. Be there at four. Be in a suit the entire time you're outside, including jacket. Bilbo has a lot of interviews and they don't really care about the rest of us, but don't make waves." Thorin glanced up from his clipboard. "Rookies, you've been assigned a veteran. After this game I expect you to know how a road trip works."

"Aw." Kíli grumbled, his rookie status with the team still rankling despite Thorin's admonishment that everyone had gone through the same process.

"Cheer up Kíli, you get to bother Dwalin all weekend." It was Dwalin's turn to grumble, but Thorin ignored them both. "Goalie, you're with me." And that internal debate had eaten up half his night. "I'm sure you know the rink but I know the reporters you'll be talking to."

"Thanks cap." He risked a glance at her and her eyes sparkled before she turned back to the paper in her hands.

"Great, everyone get ready for an hour of film and then ice time. Hobbiton's a solid team, but they're not looking to make the jump. I want us to be over prepared to send a message to the league."

"And their main sponsors are the pipe weed companies so the league limits a lot of the money they get to use." Bilbo grinned. "Five goalies and half a team cycled through last season."

"Good to know. See you all in the theatre in a few." Thorin left and waited outside the door. He wasn't disappointed. Bilbo was at his side in moments, jacket zipped up to her chin and binder under her arm. She followed him in silence, until they were going down a side corridor.

"You're a good captain, even if you can't look at me sometimes. Balin thinks we're barely tolerating each other now." She snorted.

"If I look at you too much I'll lose my train of thought." Thorin confessed and stopped walking. Bilbo put her hand up to his chest and grinned before rising to her toes and kissing him, pushing him against the cinder block wall. Gasping, he broke away and leaned his forehead to hers, trying to marshal his thoughts.

"Risky."

"You don't give them enough credit." She whispered against his lips, but stepped away. "Come on. I need to memorize some shots." Sitting in the dark room with her leg pressed against his, watching the film clips Gandalf had put together, Thorin found his focus sharper than ever. Ice time was an easy tuning of their system, making sure passes were crisp and lines were communicating. Gandalf sent them all home with orders to rest and eat healthy, and admonitions to be at the rink at four the following morning. Soon the Axes would be put to the test. Thorin could only hope their preparations would be enough.

  
In the grey light of morning, the mountains blocking any hint of sunrise but the clouds betraying the light, Radagast got Daisy turned over, letting the heavy diesel engine get warmed up as bags, chests and coolers were loaded aboard. The floorboards rumbled underfoot and the engine smell was strong, but it was the feeling of a game to be played and Thorin felt himself slipping into familiar routines. He had worried having Bilbo at his side would be a distraction, but watching her prepare herself gave him an added incentive to have a great game. Every sense was elevated, Dís' light perfume overwhelming as she gave them all hugs, kissing Bilbo's cheek before rejoining the small group there to see the Axes away.

Radagast didn't wait for everyone to get settled as he cranked the doors shut and started towards the first mountain pass south, towards the rolling hills and Mithlond where they would have a chance to stretch their legs and eat before getting into the Shire. Kíli started an old movie about young hockey players in Forochel trying to make the local team and dealing with small town life. It was far too romanticized and everyone spent the time making fun of the obvious switches from skating doubles to the actors, and the terrible cinematography for the games. It kept everyone laughing and when Gandalf's name appeared in the credits as a consultant he was toasted and cheered.

At the gas station, several cars drove by honking, many with kids waving their sticks with no regard for other cars. Finally the hills flattened and the pipe weed fields were carved out of the rolling plains, and they flashed through Michel Delving just long enough to see a billboard with Bilbo's Cabri campaign dominating the skyline. She stared out over her old home with her trademark smile, helmet and stick positioned to show the larger than life logos, but her Axes jersey caught the eye first. The real goaltender ducked her head, smiling as Fíli and Kíli took pictures with their phones.

"Hope that's the only one." Daisy passed two more on the highway, but by the last one, no one said anything. A change had come over them as they saw the blue sign announcing the borders of Hobbiton, population 24,673, headphones in and suit jackets on. The rink was in an converted flour warehouse on the edge of what had once been an industrial park but now showed signs of merging into the rest of the small city.

Hobbiton had rolled out a welcoming committee for their returned daughter, a crowd of Babes and Millers fans intermingled and cheering as Radagast brought Daisy to a stop outside the hotel. Gandalf had reserved a conference room as a home base and to give reporters easy access to the team for interviews. An EHL team had never had so much excitement over their preseason opener before. Bilbo stopped at the top of the stairs, squaring her shoulder and taking a deep breath as the doors hissed open and she was face to face with her fans for the first time.

Thorin stepped down behind her, as a young girl broke out of the crowd to throw herself around Bilbo's waist. Bilbo returned the hug and took a selfie with the girl's shakily proffered camera, kneeling down so their faces were level. That broke the floodgates and for the next thirty minutes everyone took pictures with the Axes, even Bifur who normally hung back from interactions with strangers. The tiny hockey players in particular gravitated to the taciturn wing, who sat on the curb and let them stand on his shoulders as their parents took pictures.

Kíli was another popular figure, but Fíli stood with Sigrid and pretended to be conducting an interview off to the side. Their clasped hands did nothing to sell the lie. But this was all background to Bilbo, until Thorin's phone vibrated and Gandalf informed him that the reporters had arrived and were almost ready. Breaking through to Bilbo's side was a struggle; Thorin had a healthy fear of hurting a child he couldn't see underfoot and it seemed every youth hockey club from towns around were there.

"Goalie, we've got interviews to get to." Thorin put his hand to her elbow and she signed one last picture before waving goodbye to the crowd. That signaled an end and the Axes joined their captain, going to the conference room to relax, eat and prepare. Bilbo sat in the corner, applying makeup with quick skill, and when it was time to go she looked ready. The walked in silence down the hallway and paused around a corner to gather themselves. It was the first time they had been alone all day.

"You look ready."

"I feel ready. No handler for press stops?" Bilbo raised her eyebrow, even as she looked in her compact and put one finger to the corner of her eye, nudging a stray eyelash back into place.  
"It was a handler or fixing up Daisy." Thorin wrapped one of her curls around his hand, silk against his skin. Bilbo's eyes darkened but she nodded, part of her already on the ice and preparing for the game. He resisted stealing a kiss and instead smoothed a wrinkle in her jacket, stepping back and preparing to go into the chaotic hotel room where the cameras were waiting, facing a screen with the league's logo. Two producers were going over their notes, both from the two local networks, and they greeted Bilbo with a familiar air as the first on air personality tested their microphone.

"We'll just set up over here. How's living outside the Shire?"

"Different." Bilbo sat and adjusted her jacket, closing her eyes for the final lighting test. "I miss being here but the altitude is good for my lungs."

"Good point. Okay, first station is coming in for a three minute spot." And the day began.  
He watched Bilbo greet every reporter as though they were family. She shook hands, laughed and responded to everything they threw at her with aplomb, from judging tomatoes, talking to children who were overcome by shyness, children who tried to show off, smaller children who sat on her lap and refused to speak above a whisper, and even greeting the town mascot, a oversized pig who grunted through the entire interview. All of that was between answering too many questions about being a woman playing a 'man's game' despite her constant assertion that hockey was an athlete's game, quoting Dís from her rookie year.

Thorin was exhausted just watching the goaltender perform. It had been two hours but it felt like a full day by the time all the producers were happy and called a wrap. Once they were free, Bilbo closed her eyes and started to laugh, shaking her head. "Pretty sure that circus doesn't happen every road trip." Thorin groaned at the thought. He wouldn't dream of subjecting a goaltender to so many outsiders on game day if they weren't in preseason and she wasn't the local girl made good.

"Mahal, no. You need something to eat. We have an hour before we have to be at the rink." Bilbo took his hand and ran her thumb over his before stepping away as they neared the lobby.  
"Perfect. Then we're going to the Green Dragon where our money's no good and they make a mean steak salad."

"Lead on."

The pub was as quaint a place as Thorin had ever experienced, but without the contrived quality he had seen at city pubs trying to replicate the comforts of a true country inn. Bilbo was greeted like an old friend and escorted to a comfortable booth near the back that gave them a small measure of privacy, and Thorin was amused at the covert glances being sent their way by every other patron.

Though he wasn't able to hold Bilbo's hand or even give her a few fond glances, it was entertaining to see the way her hometown was reacting to her presence. They were brought the steak salad that lived up to Bilbo's praise and Thorin was more than happy to pose for a picture with the inn's owner and signed a napkin for a Rosie, who the publican, a Mr. Cotton, said was a young lass but already enamored of Bilbo and hockey.

"Tell Lily I said hello, Tolman."

"I will lass, I will. We sure do miss you around here. But the Gamgees are still looking after Bag End for the new owners and your mother's roses are as beautiful as ever." Watching Bilbo's face, Thorin stifled a foul curse. She was pale as her shirt and her mouth trembled. This was why he shouldn't have let her leave the hotel. Civilians never knew to leave a goaltender alone on game day.

"That's very good to hear, Tolman. Good seeing you." They left and Thorin drew her down the next alley, hiding behind a garage and watched her struggle against her tears.

"Bilbo, I'm sorry, but you've got to either cry and move on or stop right now. You've got to be on the ice and ready soon."

"I know, I know." Bilbo bit her lip and hid her face in her hands. "Shit, I didn't think coming home would be so hard. They all just want to talk about Mom and Dad. I have to go."

"Here." She had left her jacket and Thorin wrapped his around her shaking shoulders. "Go on, I'll see you at the rink. Take your time."

"I'm just going to go back to the hotel and refocus." The tears were still there but Bilbo's voice no longer shook. "They won't knock me down this easily."

"That's the Burglar I've been hearing so much about. See you later, darling." He kissed her cheek and Bilbo returned it on his lips, turning and walking away with quick steps, the set of her shoulders betraying her tension. Angry that he had allowed her to be hurt, Thorin started walking, keeping his head down until he had worked off his excess nerves.

He had plenty of time to kill, and he liked seeing Bilbo's hometown. Though larger than the Blue Mountains, Hobbiton was quieter, slower, the rolling hills and green forests a world away from the high mountains. The Shire felt safe, and it was no wonder Bilbo missed the bucolic serenity, or had adorned her mask with its memory.

He felt relaxed, and hoped the rest of the team did too. A quick walk would clear his head and then he could meet everyone at the rink. He probably had a few minutes before he needed to turn around. Thorin's hand went down to his pocket and he froze, stomach turning to ice when he found nothing but his key. Now he remembered putting his phone in his breast pocket and turned, hurrying out of the pleasant neighborhood he had stumbled upon and back towards the high street.

Ten minutes later, Thorin still hadn't found his way and there was a distinct feeling of cold sweat between his shoulder blades. Standing on yet another narrow, winding road that obscured looking more than a block forward or back, Thorin picked a direction at random. Hobbiton didn't have any distinctive skyline to point him towards the rink and he had never mastered the ability to determine his location without the mountains to guide his steps. Phones with maps had been his best friend and saved him many times in the past. He could hear Dís mocking him even now. He turned, trying to think of what to do when he heard someone calling his name.

"Mr. Thorin! Mr. Thorin!" Bewildered, he stopped and turned to see a gangly boy and skinny girl in Axes' jerseys, towing a harassed looking woman behind them with the sheer force of enthusiasm.

"Children, leave him alone! Sir, I apologize..."

"No need, ma'am." Thorin bent down and had to smile when he saw they both had the number 22 on their shoulders. "Are you two our best fans in Hobbiton?"

"In the whole Shire!" The dark haired boy boasted. "Me and Prim both. I'm Bilbo's cousin, you know."

"She's got a lot of cousins." Beyond that her family tree was a mystery, but his young fan didn't notice Thorin's hedging.

"See mama, see? This is her captain."

"That's me. And what's your name, young man?" The woman smiled with her mouth only, but said nothing as the boy kept chattering.

"Drogo. Drogo Baggins. This is my friend Prim. She's a Brandybuck."

"Nice to meet you Prim." Thorin held out his hand, laughing when both children grabbed his fingers and shook his hand up and down with vigor. The woman cleared her throat.

"Sweeties, we're going to be late to the game if we don't get moving. We have to eat first."

"Oh, mother, please, can we get his autograph on our jerseys? Please?"

"Drogo, muffin, we really must go and I don't have a pen." Drogo scowled but Thorin moved quickly, not wanting to disappoint either child.

"No need, ma'am." He pulled out his felt pen and scrawled his signature on their sleeves where they directed him to. Prim graced him with a hug and Drogo held out his fist like they were on the bench, before they thanked him again and hurried away waving frantically. After waving them out of sight, Thorin glanced up and felt his chest tighten when he still didn't recognize the area. He wished he had thought to ask but the harried mother probably would have run the other way.

Helpless and aware of the wide berth passersby were giving him, Thorin struck out towards the direction he thought was correct and cursed himself for leaving his phone with Bilbo. Five blocks later, he slowed and looked around in desperation. Nothing looked correct and he dithered, unsure of his reception if he went into one of the nearby stops. A glance at his watch convinced him any embarrassment was worth the cost of getting back to the rink, and he chose a sporting goods store with the silhouette of a fisherman over the worn sign. Inside, the air was heavy with dust and old machine oil, and Thorin took a deep breath with appreciation. It smelled like the back rooms of Erebor, and his grandfather. "Hello?"

"Just a minute." A rough voice rang out from the back and Thorin followed the sound, finding an older man hunched over a large eyeglass and tying off a complicated fly. He finished and turned, blinking at the tall stranger filling his shop and pulled his glasses down from their perch on his white head. "Don't think I've seen you here before?"

"My first time. I need to get to the ice rink and I got lost. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction."

"Hmm, ice rink, ice rink. Oh yes, the old flour warehouse, hmm." Hemming and hawing under his breath, the old man folded his hands in front of him. "Here to play against us?"

"I'm here with Bilbo Baggins. I'm her teammate." At the mention of Baggins, a marked change came over the man and he jumped to his feet, grabbing Thorin's arms and laughing.

"Little Belladonna's lass? Is that so, is that so. My, old enough to be on a team. Yes, yes, young man, go right out of the shop and take a left on Proudfeet Lane, that will cut through the neighborhoods and put you on the Green Dragon. From there you can see the warehouse, no problems. You tell that Belladonna that old Hobson is keeping an eye on things, yes? And she should call sometime." Thorin glanced in agony at the antique clock over the door, but made his promises and thanks and took off at a run, pride be damned. He could hear the old man laughing as he went back into his shop and shook his head. What a strange people the Shire folk were.

  
Ten minutes before warmups, Thorin raced through the back doors of the rink and found Gandalf pacing in the hallway, sucking at his unlit pipe. "Ah, Thorin!" Coming to a gasping halt, Thorin tried to explain what had happened.

"Gandalf. I got lost. Twice."

"No matter, you've made it if you hurry and change." His coach's eyes twinkled. "Of course, you're fortunate I don't have anyone else on the roster or I would bench you as an example."  
"Any other season I would bench myself." Thorin could feel his blood rushing to his face as he tried to control his anger. "I'll apologize."

"After you get dressed." Thorin took off for the locker room, hoping no one was near the door as he slammed it open and confronted a half dressed team. Mouths dropped open but Thorin had no time to say anything as he beelined for his bag and tugged at his tie. Movement resumed, but Thorin saw too many sidelong glances to feel comfortable with the C on his chest tonight. He bent over his skates and tugged on them to avoid Fíli's questioning gaze and Kíli's confusion.

Instead, he snuck a glance at his goaltender. Her hair was in a tight braid, a style he had never seen on her before, and tied with a green ribbon. And if his eyes weren't deceiving him, she was still wearing makeup. He was torn between incredulity and understanding. Even now, she was being judged on a different level than anyone else on the team and he only hoped she had chosen something water resistant.

What mattered more was the serenity he saw in her eyes and the slight purse of her lips that he had only seen when she was on the ice. She was ready. His heart unclenched but Bilbo tugged her jersey over her black chest protector and snugged her game day helmet over her face. Once the mask covered her eyes, Thorin lost the chance to speak to her, and her gloves were on and her stick in her hand before he had his socks taped down over his shin pads. The rest of the team left and Thorin allowed himself one last curse before shaking away his troubles. He needed to find his game space or tonight would be a disaster.

He could hear the music starting as he adjusted his mouth guard and went to the door, the roar of the crowd telling him Bilbo had hit the ice as he walked down the never ending corridor towards the bench. Bright lights guided him to the chill and Thorin let all the doubt and tension leave as his blades cut into the fresh ice. He caught a pass from Dwalin and joined in the circle, the crowd a blur of faces behind the glass. The noise was lifting the energy of the Axes; they knew every full throated cry was for the goaltender in white and blue who was currently doing a movement drill in her crease. She stopped to drink some water, eyes sliding over the crowd like they weren't there, but the section she faced all waved and screamed her name as though she had saluted each of them. Multiple banners and signs proclaimed the presence of the Babes, entire rows of women wearing the same jersey and waving blue towels in the air.

The cheers of the fans ceased to be a noise and instead felt like a physical force around them, the air itself shaking. When Bilbo sent rebounds into the netting in the corner, or made a save, the pitch grew louder for a few seconds, and when their ten minutes were up and Bilbo skated towards the bench, she propped her helmet up on her head and waved her glove, turning in a slow circle. The noise became a storm that didn't diminish until she was gone from the playing surface. Thorin put his glove to her blocker but said nothing as they walked back to the locker room. He was overwhelmed by their welcome. But there were more important things to focus on now and what existed beyond the glass became as distant as the stars.

  
Even though the game wasn't going to count, the pomp and circumstance were carried out with precision. The Shire's anthem played, flags were saluted, the ceremonial faceoff was carried out by a veteran of the Long Winter War and won by Thorin, who scooped up the puck and handed it back to the honoree to cheers, but he could tell only a few had been watching him. Bilbo was in net and it felt like the entire rink revolved around her. Nets were replaced, cameras adjusted and the clock was set. The tiny rituals of tape and wax, water bottles and last minute adjustments carried out on the bench until the head referee blew his whistle, held up the puck, and skated to center ice. The Millers center, shorter than Thorin by a head and chewing on his mouth guard, squared up with a sneer but Thorin kept his eyes on the referee's hand, waiting for the first twitch.

The puck dropped and Thorin won possession, tapping a pass back to Glóin and pushing the opposing center out of the way to set up the forecheck. Balin swung up the right side, beating the forward chasing him, and passed to his brother at the blue line, avoiding an offside call by inches. Thorin crashed the net, stick ready for the one timer that Dwalin set up by drawing two players into the corner and sneaking the puck past them to his center.

A blistering shot rose over the Miller's goaltender and sent the water bottle flying into the air. Stunned, Thorin held up his arms, the months of practice and pain crystallizing into a perfect moment. Dwalin and Balin arrived to join in the celebration, laughing and skating back towards the bench to touch everyone's gloves, and ending with Bilbo, who grinned up at Thorin but didn't say anything. Gandalf waved Thorin's line back to take the face off, beaming behind his scarf and coat, while the arena screamed and stomped their appreciation.

The first period went by in a blur, with no more goals but plenty of chances from both teams. Bilbo's first save, a simple stop that she had held against her chest, had led to a television timeout because the crowd wouldn't sit back down for two minutes. She saluted the crowd as the buzzer sounded and they returned the gesture, their cheers piercing the thick cement that normally buffered the locker room. Gandalf stood at the dry erase board, nodding as everyone came in and turned to their own rituals.

"Excellent period. But I want you to focus on converting the opportunities." He began to sketch out one of the plays that had almost given Kíli his first goal, and finished just as Radagast entered the locker room.

"Gandalf, anyone you want to send to an interview?"

"Bilbo?" She shook her head, not even glancing up from her left pad as her fingers danced over each strap, making minute adjustments. "Fíli, if you would."

"Yes coach." Fíli pulled his jersey on, tugging a blue baseball cap over his sweaty hair and followed Radagast out to the waiting cameras. Thorin couldn't believe his coach had even asked. Rare was the goaltender who wanted to break their concentration by talking to a reporter. Especially one guarding a no goal game. His mind shied away from the s-word and he missed what Gandalf was saying.

Walking back out to fresh ice was a relief. Wet rings still glistened on the now smooth ice as the Axes and Millers traded ends to unabated cheers, but the game started with a whimper, both teams going back and forth without getting scoring opportunities until Gandalf told Fíli something and changed the lines, recalling Bofur, Bombur and Bifur to the bench sooner than their shift was up. Ori intercepted a pass and dodged a nasty hit in the corner, before going on his backhand and throwing the puck to a waiting Bilbo.

Thorin stood, seeing one of the more difficult plays they had practiced forming, and felt the excitement rising from the rest of his team as Bilbo drew in two players before completing a perfect saucer pass back to Ori up in the near circle. He deflected the puck to Kíli, and all three young men were off, breaking into the far zone with perfect timing, while Glóin and Óin kept the forwards contained. Ori went low, braving a hit but maintaining possession, before passing into the high slot and giving Kíli the perfect opportunity for a one timer.

The puck went low and to the right, catching the pipe and bouncing in with a triumphant ting and a muffled thump. The crowd went wild and Thorin jumped the boards, disregarding everyone else to crash into Fili and Kíli both, all of them celebrating Kíli's first goal as a professional. His younger nephew was jumping up and down, laughing, before breaking away from his family to give Ori a crushing hug, even as the referee tossed Gandalf the puck and went to get a new one from the cooler in the time keeper's box.

The second period wound down after that, and the score stood at two nothing when the horn sounded again. Thorin bumped Bilbo's blocker as she skated off the ice without even looking at the stands. Gandalf used the break to tweak the defense, alternating their shifts against the forwards to minimize the Miller's ability to dump the puck. The last period flew by, the crowd still enthusiastic and the Millers trying to keep the Axes to the outside of their zone, but two more goals, one from Nori and the last from Balin, sealed the outcome.

Bilbo saw little action, but Thorin knew it could be more difficult for a goaltender to stay in the game when they didn't see a lot of rubber. She handled three icing attempts with ease, passing to Nori and Glóin with precision and wearing the Hobbiton bench down even as she allowed her team to change. When the final horn sounded, and the sounds of a pig snorting finished out the game, Bilbo lifted her mask and finally turned to the Babes, waving both her hands before the Axes enveloped her in a team hug.

Amid the chaos, Bilbo touched Thorin's hand without looking right at him, and he knew her whispered thanks was for more than the game. Since this was a preseason, and the Axes were visiting, they went to shake hands with their defeated opponents and skated back to the bench. The announcer surprised them by thanking them again and asking the still packed stadium to congratulate the three stars of the game, as though this contest had counted. The third star was Kíli, for his first ever goal, and he went to center ice to wave, to marked increases of cheers from certain sections.

"Second star of the game is number 21, captain Thorin Thráinson!" There was polite applause and even some cheering, but Thorin skated out, waved one hand over his head and got off the ice as quickly as he could. He didn't want to stand in the way of what was coming.

"And first star of the game...number 22, Belladonna Baggins!" Flowers, hats and other tributes rained down on the ice, piling up in moments. Bilbo skated out and scooped up a bouquet of yellow roses, waving her hands over her head and standing alone at center ice, while flashes filled the arena and her name echoed to the rafters. Three minutes passed before she left the ice, beaming face slick with sweat.

"That was amazing."

"Yes it was." He didn't want to tell her their next reception wasn't going to be anywhere as pleasant, but it had been good for everyone's spirits to have a first successful game even if they didn't get any points for it. They had won, convincingly, and Bilbo had done well. He scolded himself. She had dominated. Two more games and they'd be on to the real test, but it was difficult not to let some hope creep into his heart. This could be quite the season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Game time.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been a hockey player for twenty years now, and combining my two greatest loves has been quite the experience for me. I'm looking forward to exploring this world, and I hope you all do as well. There is a Heart of Ice tag on my [tumblr](http://steampagan.tumblr.com/) if you are curious about the research and inspirations I've found over the last few months.


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